#I'm sick today and my scars ache.

[neverendingford]

.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As parents-to-be, you and Bradley start to get used to a new kind of routine. You've somehow replaced nights out at the bar with nausea, exhaustion, and a seemingly never ending ache for your husband. And he's showing you with his words and actions how ready he is for whatever comes next.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy, vomiting, angst, fluff

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

On Monday morning, you woke up to Bradley in his uniform making coffee and toast when you wandered into the kitchen in nothing but his old UVA shirt. "You're up early," you mumbled with a smile, and he dropped the teaspoon he was holding onto the counter. 

"Hey," he crooned, rushing over to you and touching your belly like you were made out of porcelain. "How did you sleep?" he asked, kissing your forehead. He was fresh out of the shower, his skin still warm and his hair damp. 

"Okay," you whispered. "I'm starving."

"Yeah? You think you can eat?" he asked, already pulling you toward the toaster. But you were burying your nose in his neck and inhaling deeply before kissing his scars, making your glasses go crooked on your face.

"You smell so good."

He chuckled. "I just used your body wash like I always do."

"Mmm," you hummed, still holding onto him as he buttered a piece of toast for you. After a good sleep, you were feeling great, and a smile found your face as you thought about the reminder you set on your phone to call your doctor at lunchtime. "Hey, Daddy?"

Bradley's eyes practically rolled back as he looked at the ceiling and groaned. "The fact that it means two different things now when you call me that is going to drive me insane."

You laughed as you turned so your back was pressed to his front, and you took a bite of toast. Your stomach gurgled and lurched, but you didn't feel like you were going to be sick, so you took another bite. "Do you want to join me at lunchtime today when I call my doctor?"

His hands kept finding their way to your belly, this time slipping up inside the shirt. "I'm not flying today, so yes. Absolutely. You calling from your office?" 

"Yeah. I'll probably stop in the cafeteria and get something to eat and take it back up with me."

"I'll meet you there with a burrito bowl in my hand," he promised, gently stroking your tattoo with his fingertips. 

Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found that you were having a pretty good day. Your toast stayed down. Bickel complimented your work. Cat was making headway on your presentation for Annapolis. But then you froze in place in the lab. In all of the excitement of the pregnancy test, you completely forgot you were going to have to go to Annapolis next month. 

You groaned softly, and then you wanted to scream, because tears started to fill your eyes. The lack of control over your emotions was already a lot to handle, and you were only two days into this thing. You took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down, but the idea of leaving Bradley right now had you panicking. And then you thought about what another deployment would mean for the two of you.

"Are you okay?" Cat asked softly, and you tried to turn your face further away from her as you nodded.

"Yeah. Just fine," you managed. "Can you change the font on the slides to something a little bolder? Make it easier to read from the back of the presentation room?"

"Sure," she replied. "You know what else I can do?"

"What?"

"Sit here quietly and listen if you need to talk about something."

You wiped at your tears before turning toward her. "Thanks, but I'm fine." 

She raised one eyebrow before returning to typing. "Jake did say you were stubborn..."

You laughed in spite of yourself. "I don't even know why I'm friends with him," you replied, but you did know. He took care of you when Bradley was away, when you couldn't take care of yourself. In an effort to change the subject from you crying over your raging hormones and early pregnancy, you asked, "How are things going with Lieutenant Seresin anyway?"

"Excellent," she whispered. "Jeremiah got accepted into the daycare on base," she added. You knew she didn't talk about her son with too many people at work, but you weren't sure what this had to do with Jake.

"Hey, that's great. Now you don't have to drive across town if he gets sick. Especially since I don't even have a car for you to borrow at the moment," you muttered. But you could tell she wanted to say something else. You knew that giving her a few seconds of quiet would make her feel like she could talk about it, and soon she was telling you more.

"Jake prepaid for six months at the new daycare."

Okay. So things were getting quite serious. Then the idea that your own child might one day be enrolled in the same daycare as Jeremiah made you smile. "I told you Jake was a good one."

Cat rolled her eyes and went back to typing, but her smirk was soft, and you knew she wasn't disagreeing with you.

-----------------------------

"I'm just saying, we should do an old school style keg party on the beach for Mickey's birthday." Nat was talking Bradley's ear off on the way to the cafeteria, but his head was in the clouds. All he could think about was the baby. Baby, baby, baby. He kept adding things to his Amazon cart, and he only found out you were pregnant two days ago.

"Kegger? Yeah, that sounds fun," he muttered, walking a little faster to get to you sooner. 

"Listen, if your wife starts doing a keg stand, I'm not going to stop her," she replied with a laugh. "She's hilarious when she's drunk."

Bradley stumbled. You weren't going to be able to drink alcohol now. Nights out at the Hard Deck drinking out of matching beer bottles were a thing of the past, at least until approximately the end of next March. He had no idea what to say, because he didn't know how long he was supposed to wait before he told his best friend that he was going to be a dad. "Yeah, she's a fucking delight," he said, making her laugh harder. 

He was going to need to have a conversation with you about all of this and figure out how to proceed. Right now he had more important things to do. Like collect his wife, call the doctor, and make sure you ate lunch. When he walked into the cafeteria, he saw you from behind, and he groaned softly. The way you filled out your khakis was always something he loved to see, but then he considered that your hips might get a little wider in a few months, and he stumbled again. 

"What's wrong with you today, Soul Sister?" Nat asked, but she noticed where he was looking, and she rolled her eyes. "Two years ago, I would have never bet a single cent on you ever settling down. And now look at you. Pathetic. In the best kind of way."

Bradley shook his head. You were turning to look at him now, and the way you bit your lip was giving him ideas. You waved to Nat as they approached, and Bradley picked up a burrito bowl for you. "Not today," you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him. "I'm not hungry for that."

"You want a sandwich instead?" he asked, kissing the top of your head as you pressed your body against his.

"I want my Daddy," you whispered softly, and he could see it in your eyes. 

"Jesus Christ," Nat complained. "Not right in front of my lunch. The two of you are repulsive. Don't forget to tell her about Mickey's party." 

Bradley watched his best friend storm off with her lunch tray as you asked, "What about Mickey's party?"

"I'll tell you later. You really don't want a burrito bowl?"

"No. I don't want hot sauce."

Bradley sputtered. "I'm sorry, what? You don't want hot sauce?"

You grinned as he grabbed two sandwiches instead. "The baby is saying no."

He let your words wash over him, and the fact that you were still holding onto him with that needy look in your eyes had him kissing you a little rough. "You want me? Right now?" 

When you nodded and whispered, "I need you," he practically hauled you and the food to the bank of elevators out in the hallway. "I'm really horny," you whined when he pushed the up arrow. "Like so fucking horny, Roo. Earlier I was crying about something, but I can't even remember what. And all I want right now is your cock in-"

Bradley smothered your lips with his as the elevator opened, revealing an admiral. It would be better to get a dirty look for kissing his wife than a reprimand for talking about how the two of you were about to get down in your office. Once the elevator was empty, he guided you inside where you just continued to kiss him. Then you led him down the hallway with a visible erection in his pants, and he hid behind you as you unlocked your door.

"You know, there once was a time when you told me I wasn't allowed to fuck you at work."

You closed and locked the door as he set down the sandwiches, and you looked at him with a predatory glint in your eye. "Shut up and pull your pants down, or I'll name the baby Honda Civic Bradshaw."

Bradley tried not to laugh as he worked at his belt, button and zipper. "Come on, Baby Girl. You can't even prove that's where I knocked you up. And if we're naming the baby after a vehicle, it's the Bronco for sure. Bronco Bradshaw, the coolest fucking kid in town."

And now you were laughing as you shimmied your pants down to your knees and treated Bradley to the view of you bent over with your arms folded on your desk. "Just fuck me, Daddy."

He palmed your ass in both hands and whispered, "My pleasure." Your head came to rest on your arms just as he lined himself up, and you sighed in relief when he started to thrust. You seemed instantly more relaxed, the tension melting away from your face. "You needed it that bad?" he murmured, reaching around to gently stroke your clit.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, tilting your head to look back at him. "So bad. I told you I was horny."

"Does this feel good?" he asked, keeping it to a slow and steady pace for now. You'd been like this when you stopped taking your birth control last year, and he vividly remembered coming home one day to find you riding the arm of the couch and begging for him. His fingers tightened on your hip as he tapped a pattern against your clit, making you buck back against him. 

"So good," you whined loudly, bucking back again. This was probably just because your hormones were all over the place right now, but he had no qualms about fucking you at work. Every time he did it, he thought about you sitting in the lab all afternoon with a tight, cum filled pussy. But then he remembered what else you and he were supposed to do today, so he pinched your clit until you moaned, and he fucked you harder. "Roo!"

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning as his hips slapped your ass with each stroke. Your pussy was so wet, his hand felt slick as he rubbed your clit in tight circles that had your legs shaking as you started a high pitched little whine. You sounded like a spoiled brat right now, his name all over your lips as you asked for more and more. 

You were about to come. He could tell. When he rammed himself deep and pressed on your clit, your pussy squeezed him tight, and you grabbed at the edge of your desk. "Bradley!" you gasped, wiggling your ass as you pulsed and moaned. He rolled his hips gently as he came, enjoying the sensation of added wetness and the knowledge that this was all just for fun since you were already pregnant. 

He had a smile on his face as he watched his cum drip onto your underwear before helping you pull it up. Your eyes were dreamy as Bradley tucked your shirt in for you. "All better?"

You nodded and wrapped your arms around him. "Yes, and I'm starving. I hope I can eat."

"Let's give it a try," he whispered, kissing your temple and guiding you to sit on his lap on the desk chair. "Just take it slow." After you took a few tentative nibbles of your sandwich, he asked, "Can we call your doctor before I have to go back out?"

"Oh," you gasped as you started to fumble with your phone. "I set a reminder, but I already forgot! I'm having a bit of a hard time focusing," you muttered. You pulled up the contact information and kissed his cheek, and Bradley listened to you tell the nurse your full name on speakerphone. He'd never tire of hearing his last name tacked on after yours, and instead of digging into his own sandwich, he wrapped you up in his arms. 

You snuggled against him as you told the nurse, "I'm pregnant! I took some tests this past weekend, and they were all positive. I think I'm between five and six weeks along." Bradley rubbed your belly with his big hand while you scheduled an appointment for an evening when he could go with you.

When you ended the call, he handed you his phone. "Enter your appointment into my calendar? I need to have a very important conversation." You took his phone as he pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, and then he teased your belly with his knuckles through your shirt and leaned a little closer. "Hey, kiddo. I know you think it's fun in there, but can you give Mommy a little break? Maybe let her go the rest of the day without yacking?"

You giggled as you typed away on his phone. "Yes, please listen to Daddy."

When you met his gaze, he buried his face against your neck. "I'm obsessed with both meanings of that word now, Sweetheart."

With a kiss to the corner of his mustache, you said, "The appointment is all set. Hopefully we can see an ultrasound. And I don't even mind the barfing as long as the baby is healthy."

Bradley ran his hand along your hair. An ultrasound. A little photo of the baby. His baby. He squeezed you so tight, you squeaked. "I can't wait. I can't wait for all of this."

-------------------------------

Bradley was serious about everything. He found crib bedding and paint swatches online, and you had to keep reminding him that it wasn't a good idea to get ahead of yourselves too early on. Every time you brought it up as gently as you could, you ended up with his lips on yours, effectively silencing you. 

"Okay," he murmured against your lips on Thursday morning while he rubbed your back. You were standing in his arms in the kitchen, practically in tears because you spent twenty minutes throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. You started carrying a toothbrush to work with you, because it seemed to be happening more and more now. You were so hungry, you just wanted to be able to eat even a small meal. But now he was talking about cribs again.

"We can't buy furniture yet, Roo. We just can't."

"I know, Sweetheart. I'm trying to reel it in."

"We don't even have the new Bronco yet," you reminded him, which would probably just get him thinking about car seats. 

"Soon," he whispered, reaching for the discarded piece of dry toast on the plate next to him. "Take another little bite." 

You nodded as your mouth watered, and tears sprang to your eyes as you nibbled on it. When you swallowed it down, you said, "If you're this patient with me, I might actually die watching you feed a baby."

Your husband buried his nose in your hair and kissed you there. "I'll take care of both of you."

And then, you felt that thrum of desire that was always just below the surface right now. You swore you could smell Bradley everywhere, all day long, even when you were working in your lab. His mustache skimmed the shell of your ear, and your pussy clenched. A soft moan escaped your lips, and his deep laughter gave you goosebumps. "Baby Girl. We do not have time for that right now. And I'm flying all day today."

You pouted up at him. "Not even a really quick fuck?"

"No," he replied as he patted your rear end. "You need to get in the Bronco so we can get on base before we're late. Then later we have to help Bob move into your old place with Maria. Then I'm going to make sure you eat something. Then, and only then, can we have sex before bed."

"You're so mean."

He cocked his head and gave you side eye. "You liked me when I got you pregnant in your shit mobile."

Your eyes lit up. "So you're admitting I'm right? About the backseat?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, grabbing the sandwich he made himself so he wouldn't have to leave the tarmac later. "Let's get going."

Bradley buckled you in, and you made it halfway to work before you started to feel nauseous. In an effort to distract yourself, you asked, "What was the excuse you gave about missing out on the Hard Deck last night?"

He winced and looked at you briefly. "I said Tramp got into something and threw up everywhere. I fucking hate lying."

"I know, but it's too early to tell them," you groaned. "And now we need to keep thinking of excuses? I hate this."

"Yeah... about that... Mickey's birthday party is a beach kegger. It was Nat's idea."

You let your forehead rest against the window. "Okay. I mean, maybe I can offer to be the designated driver that night? Or maybe you and I can just keep switching cups while you drink all the beer?"

"We'll figure it out," he murmured. "I'm not worried about that so much as keeping you healthy right now. I'll lie to them about this if I have to."

You nodded as a wave of saliva filled your mouth and made you gag. "Pull over!"

"What?" Bradley asked, already flipping on the hazard lights and stopping in front of a random driveway.

"Oh god," you groaned as you unbuckled, opened the door, and stumbled as you threw up into a storm grate. You heard his door slam as he ran around the back of the Bronco to help you stand there as you continued to vomit next to someone's mailbox and lilac bush. 

Then you heard a man's voice, and when you looked up, there was the homeowner, watering his flowers. "Is everything okay?" he asked cautiously as you heaved.

"Just great," Bradley replied in an upbeat tone that made you want to kick him. "My wife's pregnant."

"Oh... well, congratulations," he replied as you finally stood up straight and gave him a little wave. 

Bradley helped you buckle in again and forfeited the water thermos from his lunch as you groaned, "That was embarrassing. Did you really have to tell him that?"

He kissed your forehead. "It was nice to be able to tell someone. It's not like he even knows us."

"That's true," you whispered, taking a sip of cold water. "This is miserable."

Bradley leaned down and kissed your belly before he said, "What did I tell you about being chill? Mommy needs a break."

You ran your fingers through his soft curls. "Let's just go to work so you don't get reprimanded, Lieutenant Commander."

"Whatever you say, Lieutenant Commander."

-------------------------

It was kind of surreal for Bradley, being back at your apartment again. "I haven't been here since I moved your old bed frame out," he mused as you and he walked inside holding hands. The back of the Bronco was filled with stuff from Bob's old place, but he wanted to know where to put things before he started moving boxes in. 

"The bed frame that you broke?" you asked, and then both of your eyebrows shot up. "Just like my car? I'm sensing a theme here when it comes to you and me fucking."

Bradley blushed. He wasn't even going to mention the patio chair or handful of articles of your clothing he'd also wrecked in the process. "Keep it down, Sweetheart. Bob doesn't need to know about that."

"He's not that innocent," you whispered, and Bradley watched his friend blush as Maria patted him on the shoulder. "Or maybe he is."

"Hey, Bob, where do you want all the boxes?" Bradley asked as you walked over to Maria and then disappeared down the hallway. His mind wandered to that first night he spent here with you. The first time you slept together. The first time you made him Marry Me Rooster. The first time he thought he could fall in love with someone who could love him back. He already knew he had deep feelings that night, and now someday you'd be cooking that dinner for three of you. 

"Did you hear me?" Bob asked cautiously as Bradley stood staring into the kitchen. "You can take everything into my room, and I'll sort it later."

"Sure," Bradley replied, nodding at him as he snapped out of his daydream. He ran back down the familiar stairs, grabbed some boxes, and took them back up. He smiled to himself as he recalled carrying you up the same stairs when you'd been drunk enough to scare away any other woman within a five mile radius who even dared to look at him. 

When he strolled back inside, he went to your old bedroom where you were standing with Maria and laughing about something in the walk-in closet. He set the boxes down, went directly to you and kissed you. "Hi," you sputtered, clearly caught off guard but smiling nonetheless. "Everything okay?"

"Yep." He cupped your cheek and kissed you one more time. "Very good. Perfect."

"I'll help you carry up some more boxes," you told him, your voice sounding a little breathy. He gave you an unamused look as the three of you exited the closet, but he waited until you and he were walking out of the apartment together. 

"You're not carrying jack shit, Sweetheart," he informed you. "I looked online, and you shouldn't lift more than twenty pounds."

You waved your hand in the air and said, "That's not until the second and third trimesters." He watched you walk down the stairs, and then he had to rush to catch up with you in the parking lot. 

"Absolutely not," he practically growled when you reached for a cardboard box. He had you pinned between his body and the open tailgate. "It's not happening." You slowly set the box down and turned to face him, and he squeezed your hip. "What's the point of having a husband who works out all the time if he's not going to carry everything for his pregnant wife?"

You moaned. You fucking moaned his name. "Bradley." Then you were sitting on the tailgate with your legs spread wide and his tongue in your mouth. Your hands were tucked up inside his tee shirt, gripping at his abs and the fly of his jeans. "You turn me on," you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing yourself against him. 

"God damn it," he cursed, big fingers gripping the back of your neck as you kissed along his chin and licked his Adam's apple. It was so tempting, taking you in the parking lot like a horny teenager. But it wasn't even dark out yet, and Maria would know exactly what was going on. He wrenched his body back a few inches and shook his head while you pouted at him. "I'll give it to you any way you want it when we get home, but you need to wait."

You let your legs fall away from his body before sliding down from the tailgate. He kissed your little frown, reached inside one of the boxes, and removed three plastic hangers. "You may carry these." You looked up at him and sighed. He stacked up three boxes and carried them up the stairs behind you.

"I still think you're being a little ridiculous," you told him as he watched your ass sway. 

"About what, Sweetheart? Not fucking you in the middle of a parking lot where someone was walking a chihuaha? Or about the hangers?" 

You snorted as you walked into the apartment once again. "Both."

"You need to behave."

Once the Bronco was unloaded, you and Bradley hung out for a few minutes. Maria offered up some beer and said she could order a pizza, but the firm but barely perceptible shake of your head had Bradley saying, "We need to get home and let Tramp out, but thank you."

"Is he feeling better?" Bob asked. "I know you said he got sick yesterday, and that's why you had to skip the Hard Deck."

"No," you replied quickly. "That's why we have to get back to let him out. He's been making such a mess. I think he ate something in the yard that he really shouldn't have."

"That's a bummer," Maria said, and Bradley couldn't help but notice the way Bob was looking at her with his cheeks tinged pink. "We skipping brunch this Sunday since Cam's flying to Pittsburgh for his sister's wedding? Or do you want to make it a girls day?"

You rolled your eyes. "He will bitch incessantly if we go without him. It's not even worth it."

"You're right," she replied, shrugging and letting her arms drop to her sides. Bradley watched you hug your friend and then kiss Bob on the cheek which made him blush even more. 

"Enjoy your new room, Bob. And enjoy the best roommate in the world while you're at it," you told him. 

"Wow," Bradley said, hands on his hips. "That stings a little bit."

"I'm sure she's making a valid point," Maria told him with a smirk.

"Yeah, but I'm standing right here," he said with a laugh as he shook Bob's hand. "See you at work tomorrow."

"Thank you!" Bob called after Bradley as he followed you back out and down the stairs. 

You were laughing as he scooped you up and placed you on the front seat. "You won't even let me carry myself!"

"Do not test me," he warned as he pulled the seatbelt across your body. "Especially since you said I'm not the best roommate you've ever had."

"You're not a roommate, Roo! You were a sexy boyfriend and then a sexy fiancé and now you're a sexy husband." You kissed him and whispered, "And soon you'll be a sexy Daddy. And I just so happen to live with you."

He placed his hand on your belly and murmured, "I can't wait to be a Daddy. Can't wait for your belly to get big. I'm so excited to meet the little bun when we go to the ultrasound."

You were moaning his name again, so he closed the door and made quick work of driving home. The route was so familiar from him doing it so many times when you and he were just starting out dating, and your hand rested heavy on his thigh. When he reached down, he could feel your engagement ring and wedding band under his palm. He would take care of you. He was already getting used to how much and when you needed to eat to avoid the horrible nausea. He was already thinking about hiring a contractor to work on the rooms upstairs. It didn't matter what it was, he'd make sure it was perfect for you. 

And that included fucking you into the mattress if you wanted him to. But when he pulled into the driveway, you were sound asleep next to him. He laughed. "Seriously?" He knew you needed to sleep, so he carefully carried you inside after he let Tramp out in the backyard. 

"What happened?" you asked, still half asleep as he set you down in bed. 

"We're home," he whispered, removing your glasses, shoes, socks and jeans. "Do you think you should eat some crackers?" You just shook your head and rolled toward his usual spot like you were searching for him there. He chuckled as you snuggled against the pillow. "I'll be in shortly."

He took Tramp for a walk and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He ate the sandwich while he spread some peanut butter on a few unsalted crackers just in case you woke up hungry in the middle of the night. Then he took a shower and got you to sit up and take a sip of water before he climbed in bed. 

And that's when he checked his phone for the first time in hours. He tapped the icon for the new voicemail from 6:02 pm and listened to a voice tell him something so delightful, he almost woke you up to share it with you. 

"Hi, Bradley, this is Terry from the Ford dealership. I'm just calling to let you know your new Bronco is here."

-------------------------------

He's ready to go. As soon as he's allowed to talk about the pregnancy, he's going to be hanging a banner up in front of the house about it. The new Bronco arrives soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 29

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[nicksolemnlyswears]

WAYS TO COME UNDONE

this is part 2 of WAYS TO DESTRESS but can be read as a standalone

summary: coriolanus keeps his promise about making you squirt all over him. what better way to do it than in front of the mirror.

pariring: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, fingering, sex in front of mirror, squirting, pussy spanking, p in v, use of safe word, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people), I DESPERATELY NEED A CORYO IN MY LIFE

a/n: hi 🌚 many wanted this, myself included hehe. it took a turn towards the end where it basically wrote itself. i have no control over what tickles my brain. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do. hopefully this oneshot shows more about the machinations of their relationship.

requests open ✨

From the moment Coryo showed you the racy clip of him using you while asleep, you have not been able to stop the waves of heat that consume your cunt.

You're a stellar student who always concentrates on the lectures and participates in class. Today, you find yourself in the back of the classroom, daydreaming about Coriolanus and his tongue. Focusing was out of the picture for you as you tried not to sneak your hand between your thighs and soothe the ache.

One of the many reasons your relationship works so well is that both of you are extremely perverted. Coriolanus has always been more in tune with that side of himself, but you needed assistance to bring that side out. Coriolanus saw it in you long before you did, and he patiently gauged it out and molded it to fit his crooked ways.

It's why Coriolanus using you while you were knocked cold has you acting this way. He pleasured himself when you were at your most vulnerable, and instead of feeling violated, you thanked him. You savor that instead of finding another whore to fuck his frustration out, he stays with you, no matter the state. If that makes you sick, then be it.

When your last class was over, you rushed to the apartment. You needed Coriolanus to stop this burning inside you. Sadly, he's a teacher's pet and workaholic who only managed to get home at eight at night.

He walks into the apartment calmly, humming under his breath while you watch him like a hawk. Coryo sees you on the living room couch 'lounging' and approaches you to leave a kiss on your head. Your eye twitches when he announces he's going to shower.

His upturned lips give him away. He's tormenting you. As if waiting for him all day wasn't torture enough. It could be worse, though he could've stayed longer at the lab. God knows he has a ton of experiments to work on.

With a huff, you follow him into the bedroom.

"How was your day, darling?" He asks, taking his clothes off.

He's like a masterpiece that has escaped a museum. His fair skin is unblemished except for the scars on his back that you've spent hours running your fingers over. Sometimes, he feels them burn, a reminder of what he's done in the past, but then you're there kissing over them to ease the pain.

"Long," you dryly respond, crossing your arms, inadvertently accentuating your chest.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Coryo says humorously, stepping into the steaming shower.

The foggy glass hides him from you, but you remain watching by the bathroom door. Despite your short answers, he continues to talk to you, successfully getting under your skin.

He's entertained by your lingering presence. Privacy is not in your vocabulary anymore. Coriolanus likes it when you get this needy. It's like an experiment where he tests how far you're willing to go.

It's not complicated; all you have to do is ask, and he'll give you the world, but you're too modest for your own good. It prevents you from coming right out with it. You could've had him the moment he stepped into the apartment if you had only asked.

You look at him hopefully when he steps out of the shower. Shamelessly, you take every inch of him. Coriolanus strong shoulders, his chiseled chest and abs, his pretty pink cock that hangs half hard most of the time.

He deprives you of it as he wraps a towel around his hips. Coriolanus approaches you, water droplets falling from his blonde hair and down his body.

Coriolanus is so close to you, and when you think he'll dip his head down to kiss you, he grabs your hips and moves you to the side to give himself passage into the bedroom. "'Excuse me."

You want to throw him with the vase of roses settled on the bathroom counter. You resist since you need him to be conscious for what you have planned. You're aware of how Coriolanus can read you like a book. So why isn't he asking about your mood or if you need anything?

He sits against the headboard, wearing only his pajama bottoms, his cock clearly outlined by the fabric. Coriolanus doesn't wear underwear to bed, he doesn't like the tight fabric when he's asleep. Having you hugging him throughout the night is enough.

With a huff, you strut over to the bed and straddle his lap. Expecting it, Coriolanus reaches for your hips, holding you tight onto him.

"Do it again," you say, placing your hands on his chest and provocatively arching your back as if offering yourself to him.

"What, darling?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. He tilts his head towards you as if he didn't hear you properly.

You roll your eyes, annoyed. "Make me squirt," you say blatantly. It sounds wrong coming from your lips.

Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head, "I said another time, darling. I'm tired tonight."

You punch his naked chest weakly, with your frown turning deeper. He grabs your hand midway through the air as you try to smack him again.

Amused at your boldness, he opens your palm and laces your fingers together. He kisses the back of your hand and holds it to his chest.

"You are mean and cruel, Coriolanus," you spit out, hoping to annoy him by using his full name. Maybe this will make him do it or at least provoke him to do something.

"You knew that when you accepted to marry me." His gaze hardens as he taps on the engagement ring on your fourth finger.

It glints delicately, catching people's attention and letting them know you're taken. He spent months searching for the right ring for you. Coriolanus had to find the perfect balance: nothing too simple where it would pass unseen but nothing too gaudy where you wouldn't wear it.

"I don't care how cruel you are to others as long as it's not me," you respond, cradling his jaw in your hand.

"Give me a good reason why I should do it," he asks, kissing your palm.

"I'll do anything, Coryo. I'll suck you off in the lab, cockwarm you in my father's office, let you tie me up, fuck my throat, anything! Hell, I'll even let you try anal again," you huff, winding yourself up.

You must really want it if you brought up anal. It's the one thing you've tried and haven't wanted to do again. You're pretty open to his suggestions, but that one is your hard limit.

He won't make you do it again. Seeing you needy like this is enough. Although he might take your offer of blowing him under the desk in his lab.

"You make a compelling case," he hums, looking at you carefully. You're flushed without him even touching you, and your nipples are hard under your nighty.

This isn't a whim, your body is visibly begging for him. Coriolanus has to pat himself on the back. This is all his doing.

"Coryo, you don't know how many times I've watched that video," you say as if to prove how much you need him.

"Kiss me," Coriolanus sighs, giving in.

You slam your lips against his, eagerly kissing him until you're breathless. Your fingers curl around his hair, tugging the strands and making him groan into your mouth. Taking the opportunity, you slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him.

Coriolanus smacks a hand down on your ass cheek, leaving a red imprint behind. In retaliation, your teeth bite harshly onto his lower one, causing a drop of blood to surface.

"I love you, darling," he growls as his eyes darken with lust, and he cups your face with both his hands. You've turned so bold under his tutelage, stealing pages from the book he wrote.

"Yeah, I love you too, come on," you pant, taking off your night dress to reveal yourself to him.

"I've created a monster," Coryo murmurs, pawing on one of your breasts as he mouths the other one.

"Don't act like you don't like it," you moan, rolling your hips down on his bulge. Your lack of underwear is apparent as a wet patch forms on his pants.

Coryo involuntarily unwraps you from his body as he stands from the bed. You chase his lips with a whine when he pulls away from you. Coriolanus sets a chair in front of the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room, sitting on it and motioning for you to sit on his lap.

If he's going to give you what you want, he will do it his way. You need him to make you squirt, so he's going to have you watch so you never forget about the moment. He'll engrave in your brain how it was he who made it possible.

With his hands on your waist, he turns you to face the mirror and pulls you down to sit with your back to his chest. Just like a doll, he positions you with your legs propped up on his knees, exposing your dripping cunt.

"No matter what, you're going to look at yourself in the mirror, or there will be consequences," he growls into your ear, licking the shell of your ear and biting your earlobe.

"Yes, Coryo," you moan, excitedly biting your lip.

Looking at him through the mirror, you notice his wicked stare. He begins to roll your clit on his fingers steadily, earning a sigh of contentment from you.

He's memorized everything about your body. Each stage of arousal is burned into his brain at this point. It's how he knows you've been touching yourself today.

"How many times did you touch yourself?" He questions, digging his nose into your neck to smell the remnants of your lotion and perfume.

"Two before I left for university, one during lunch, and two when I got back," you admit between moans as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You were late to class because of Coryo's video. Still, your arousal persisted so much that you locked yourself in one of the bathrooms of the university and rubbed your clit till your legs shook with an orgasm. You walked out of the bathroom, ashamed of your behavior, but it got you throughout the rest of the day.

When you got home, you fell on the couch, pressing one of the decorative cushions between your legs. You rocked against it for nearly an hour, edging yourself to give Coriolanus time to get home. The last one was in the shower with the detachable head minutes before he arrived.

"Five times and one in public," he chides with a click of his tongue, "What do I do with you?"

Your confession is music to Coriolanus' ears, but you can't know that. So he delivers five sharp slaps down your spread cunt. He covers the reddening flesh with his hand, putting pressure on it to ease the sting.

"Ow, Coryo," you cry, digging your nails into his thighs where you are barely hanging on.

"You should've come to me. I could've helped you much more than your fingers," he tells you mockingly.

Uncovering your cunt there is a dash of red on your skin. Coriolanus didn't hold back with his slaps. It's hard to explain why, but you like it when he manhandles you like that. He makes you cry just to console you later.

"You're busy," you sniff, hiccuping when he gathers your slick to spread it over the stinging skin.

Coriolanus takes his studies and lab work seriously; you never wish to interrupt him in any way, no matter how many times he reassures you it's okay.

"I'm never too busy for you, darling," he responds, resting his chin on your shoulder. His touch returns to your clit, rubbing it round and round until you're moaning out his name.

Finally, Coriolanus slips his finger into you, giving you the relief you desperately want. Even if it is your pleasure, his fingers are better than yours. They are long and strong and know precisely how to curve to give you the pleasure you seek.

The relief that takes over you is so much that you let your head fall back with your eyes closed. In an instant, the fingers are gone, and another slap is deposited on your sensitive skin.

"Eyes on the mirror," Coriolanus reminds you. He wants you to see how he's the only one that can make you crumble.

His free hand, which had been wrapped like a vice around your waist, comes up to your chest to squeeze your breasts and nipples. His eyes darken as he observes how your supple flesh spills between his fingers.

"Look at how pretty you are," he whispers in your ear as he adds another finger into your dripping cunt.

A sense of bashfulness settles on your chest as you do as he says. You follow his hand as it trails down your sweaty skin, your face and chest flushed because of the heat. He traces your nipples with his fingers, and you watch how they turn hard in response. Next, he touches your stomach, his fingers ghosting your belly button from which he has licked his own cum from.

It's like your body harbors memories of Coriolanus Snow, from the multicolored lovebites in your chest and neck to the thick arousal that coats your thighs. Each one was caused by him, for him.

Sensing your mind is slipping, he lightly taps your thighs, bringing you back to focus on the body he considers so beautiful. He takes his wet fingers out of you and spreads your cunt even farther with them.

He traces your pearl, which is bright red, frustrated from arousal and the constant touching it has endured today. Then, your pussy lips that puff out as blood surges to it.

Coriolanus gathers the drop of slick that hangs from your fleshy pink opening. "See? All beautiful and all mine," he says. Only now does he allow you to turn from the mirror because it's to kiss him.

Remembering why you're in this position, Coriolanus slides two fingers into you, fucking them with precision into your g spot. No more teasing and prolonging.

"It feels so good, Coryo," you whine, holding onto his arm as your hips grind further into his hand.

"It looks good, too," he mutters, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallows his fingers. Not even your nails digging into his arm snaps him away from the pretty sight.

With hooded eyes, you keep looking into the mirror, waiting for the moment Coryo promised you. Coriolanus hand presses down on the spot above your mound. It's the key to make you squirt. His fingers bully your spot more forcefully, feeling your walls clench with an impending orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, C-coryo," you choke out, breathing heavily. It's like an orgasm is coming but so much better than the needy, desperate ones from today. It feels much more fulfilling.

"Relax for me," he prompts, slowing his pace. You're always so fucking tense even as he fucks you senseless.

"Ah, ah, ah," your moans staccato as you near your precipice and tears accumulate in the corner of your eyes.

It's a constant climb where you feel the excitement of nearing the top, and then suddenly, you slide back down. A sudden burst of pleasure consumes you as a gush wets Coryo's fingers and mirror. His fingers whip out and furiously rub your frustrated clit, causing a smaller gush to stream down.

Your mouth is ajar as you gasp, your hands bunching up the fabric of his pants. Your cunt visibly spasms as your orgasm prolongs itself.

"You did it, darling," Coriolanus sweetly says, kissing your cheek as he looks at you adoringly, "How did it feel?"

He touches you all over, spreading the drops of squirt that adorn your thighs. Your legs fall down limply as you relax back onto Coryo. He continues stroking your skin, looking at the beautiful, wet mess he made.

"I-I don't know, there was this just sensation of release like everything left my body," you say between pants as you try and catch your breath.

Coriolanus smirks and hugs you tightly, lost in his own world. It's like the post-orgasmic bliss affected him rather than you.

"Can we try again?" You ask minutes after, feeling the spark reignite by just thinking about the stream of fluid that came out of you.

"Whatever my darling wants," Coriolanus agrees, spanking your ass playfully when you get up from the chair.

You kneel on the floor to pull down his pants and find his leaking cock. Going straight for it, you suck him off like there is no tomorrow, swallowing around him and taking him deep till your nose rubs against his pubic bone.

Coriolanus doesn't allow himself to cum, even if his body screams at him to shoot his load into your warm mouth. Pulling you up from the floor, he pushes you towards the bed. You get on your knees and hands, shaking your ass for him cheekily.

Coriolanus has a feeling that today it will be a quick one. You're both too wound up to prolong this any further. His hand curves over your hip as he pushes his cock through your folds, wetting it. Without a warning, he snaps his hips, stretching your walls.

"Love your cock, Coryo," you moan as he fucks you harshly. "So big and thick and so deep," you mumble, acting cockdrunk.

You bury your head on the sheets, arching your back so your chest presses against the bed as you splutter nonsense. The tension of the day gets to you, and you allow yourself to go dumb on his cock.

"It's all yours, darling," he grunts, gripping your waist to push you back onto his cock. At this point, you're a cocksleeve to him as he chases his release. The sounds of his balls slapping against your clit are loud and obnoxious.

Keeping a steady rhythm, he fucks you until you're fluttering around him again. Coriolanus bends over your back, splaying his hand on your pelvis. He had promised he'd make you squirt again. It works as you drench his cock again, soaking the sheets and his thighs.

"Oh my god," you cry as your legs shake. You would've fallen flat on your face if it hadn't been for Coryo, who holds you up as he continues to push into you.

Tears soak the pillow you're hugging. It's too good. His cock is brushing repeatedly over your spongy spot. You don't want him to stop, ever, but you're so sensitive. It's a push and pull. You want more, but you're unsure if your body is up to it.

In a moment of lucidity, a wave of emotions grabs you and pulls you down. It snaps you out of your trance and hurts your chest. Shame, pleasure, desperation, joy, embarrassment, arousal.

Questions invade your brain. Since when have you been like this, letting yourself be treated this way? How are you not ashamed of yourself? This is not how a lady behaves. You're no better than a whore in a whorehouse. You should be ashamed of yourself.

"Rose!" You cry out with a sob as the shakiness localized in your legs spreads all over your body.

Immediately, Coriolanus stops all movement, startled by the use of the safe word. Your soft cries snap him out of his shock, and he, as gently and carefully as possible, pulls out of you.

Your whole body shakes as you cry, worrying Coriolanus to no end. He questions if he did anything that hurt you but comes up empty-handed.

"Darling, are you okay?" He asks, helping you sit up on the bed. He takes the clean blanket by the end of the bed, covering your body.

"Too-too much. I-I'm sorry," you hiccup, hugging the blanket tighter against you.

Coriolanus carefully respects your private space since he's unsure if you want or need his touch. He sits beside you, though, listening to anything you might need.

Humiliation fills your body. You were the one to ask for more and couldn't handle it, worrying Coryo about something that was not his fault.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry about," he speaks with the softest voice he can muster, "Do you want me to bring you water?"

"Just hold me," you say as more tears trickle down your face.

So, he does. Coriolanus kisses your temple and runs his hand across your back until your sobs settle. He holds you close and whispers reassuring words in your ear.

You desperately want to tell him it's nothing he did. He wasn't being terribly rough or mean. You loved every moment of tonight until your emotions and unwanted thoughts got the best of you.

In your vulnerable state, the pent-up frustration of the day and the negative emotions you kept locked bubbled up and caused a sensory overload. Even now, you can barely speak, trying to regulate your emotions again.

"Don't go," you hiccup, reaching for his hand when Coryo stands from the bed. Terrified, he believes the same things your brain is feeding you.

"I'm not going anywhere, darling. Just looking for our clothes," he says, squeezing your left hand and kissing your knuckles.

Coriolanus grabs his pants from the floor and slips them on. Digging through the drawers, he finds one of his t-shirts and grabs a pair of your underwear. Your comfort is his priority, and he knows how comforting you find wearing his clothes. He helps you put the garments on, wrapping you back up on the blanket.

Leaning back on the pillows, he pulls you towards him, hugging you to his chest. You hug his middle, burying your head in his neck, falling asleep like that.

He stays awake, feeling the puffs of breath on his neck. Coriolanus hand keeps running up and down your back, under your shirt. It works to comfort himself as well.

You've only used the safe word twice, and both times, you had been doing worse things by far. He had understood twice and had been alert in any case. Today took him off guard, and it scared him.

Coryo debates on waking you the following day. He decides to do it to check how you're doing. You can decide if you want to go to university or not. He will walk you there personally if that is what you choose.

He wakes you by running his hand up and down your arm, softly shaking you out of your slumber, "Darling?"

"Mmm," you groan, your eyes fluttering open. He'd kept the curtains closed so they wouldn't bother you.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" Coriolanus asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

You stay silent momentarily, gauging your mental state, "I'm good. Am I running late?" You ask, sitting up on the bed.

"No, it's still early. Want me to walk you to school?" He asks, watching as you get up and head into the bathroom.

"Please?" You ask, turning to look at him before closing the bathroom door.

"Of course," he nods.

"Coryo, I think I know what happened last night," you speak loudly through the door, not a moment later.

"And what's that love?" He asks, standing by the door.

"I got my period," you say simply.

The blood staining your underwear is the reason you lost yourself last night. Your hormones must've been all over the place yesterday. It explains your sudden breakdown and why you were acting like a bitch in heat before that.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. He's glad it's just that and nothing he did. He feels calm now as most of his worry is swept away. "I'll go make breakfast," he tells you before he heads out to the kitchen.

His worry is replaced by disappointment in himself. He lost track of your damn period because he was so busy at the lab. He has to share part of the blame. Ever since he started living with you, he noticed those subtle mood changes you got as your period neared and passed through.

First is the neediness, constantly touching him and asking to be touched. You got freakier when you were ovulating. Then there is the bad mood you get whenever he just as breathes the wrong way or places something where it doesn't belong. You try hiding it and holding back your scoffs, but he notices. Lastly, it's the tears. Your emotions are delicate when this time of the month comes around.

Last year, you got your period around the time of The Hunger Games and couldn't watch them. Tears instantly tracked down your face when you usually don't care. Coriolanus had to record them for you to watch later because you wanted to see everything that was implemented, thanks to him.

Because he recognizes how you get, he took it upon himself to make those days more bearable for you. Not to say he tiptoes around you, but he's gentler, more restrained. He tries not to be too mean. Had he known your period was right around the corner, he wouldn't have teased you today or made you wait for it.

He scolds himself as he pieces the puzzle together. That must've been why you took the sleeping pills the other day. You had an emotional day, and your overthinking mind didn't let you sleep.

Sensing he's kicking himself, you hug Coryo's waist from behind as he places the food on the table. "I love you, Coryo," you say sweetly, pressing a kiss on his spine.

Now, this is more in line with your normal, sweet behavior.

Coriolanus turns around in your embrace, hugging your shoulders and pulling you tight against him, kissing your hairline. "I love you so damn much," he speaks into your hair. "You had me worried last night," he admits, kissing your lips slowly before he lets you go.

"I don't know what happened. One moment, I was alright, and the next…well, you know," you shrug, sitting on the chair Coryo pulls out for you.

"Your emotions got the best of you. I know how that feels," Coriolanus nods, understanding better than anyone how it feels to lose yourself in the moment.

That day in the forest of District 12 will forever haunt him.

There we go! That was the part 2 I promised you! It took an unexpected turn but it felt right to me. Sorry it couldn't be kinkier :(

If you'd like to read more of this pairing you can also read The Mentor. It's a small prequel to this one shot set around three years back when they started dating. That being said The Mentor Pt. 2 is FILTHY.

If you liked it don't hesitate to let me know!

[acaciusbride]

Request Status: Open (Selective)

Pedro Pascal Characters I Write: Din Djarin , Joel Miller, Javier Peña, Oberyn Martell, Javi Gutierrez, Ezra (Prospect), Frankie Morales, Comandante Veracruz, Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels.

Gabriel Luna Characters I Write: Tommy Miller, Boro Polonia.

Be My Future - Din x Reader (Breeding Kink)

Possessive!Din

Touch Starved Din

Teaching Din To Eat You Out

Take It - Dom! Din x Reader (Breeding Kink)

Over Eager, Inexperienced Din

Din Spanks You With His Belt

Din When You're Pregnant

What's In A Name? - Din Djarin x Named OC (SFW)

Din As A Girl Dad (SFW)

Domestic!Din x Teacher!Reader (SFW)

"I'm Not Wearing Underwear" - Prompt

Headcanons

Jealousy, Jealousy - Jealous!Reader x Joel / Jealous!Reader x Tommy (Most Popular Fic!)

Jealousy, Jealousy (Part Two) - Jealous!Reader x Joel

Joel's Kinks

That's My Girl - Jealous, Possessive Joel x Reader

Differences Between Game!Joel & Show!Joel

Playing Rough - Joel x Reader (ft spanking & the knife handle).

Mine - Possessive!Reader x Joel

DBF! Joel Catching You Staring At His Arms

'Accidentally' Getting Joel A Shirt That's Too Small

DBF! Joel Has Enough Of Your Teasing

DBF! Joel With A Bratty Reader

Joel Sees Your Scars (SFW)

Seducing Joel

Joel Wants You In Sub Space

Oblivion - Joel x Reader (Established Consent / DubCon CW)

Breathe Through It - Joel x Anxious!Reader (SFW)

Pre Game - DBF!Joel x Confident!Reader

Plus Size Reader Is Reassured By Joel (SFW)

“We Have To Make This Quick” - Prompt

Joel When You’re Sick (Headcanons)

Curls - Jackson!Joel x AFAB!Reader

Honeypot - Joel “kisses it better”,

Heat - Ezra x F!Reader

Taste - Ezra x F!Reader, short continuation of Heat

Ache - Ezra x AFAB Reader (Sex Pollen Fic)

Jealousy, Jealousy (Alt Version)

Bedside Manner (TLOU2 Spoilers!)

Taboo

Part One (SFW)

Part Two (SFW)

Tennessee Nights (Part One)

Tennessee Nights (Part Two)

Fall In Love In A Single Touch - modern!Oberyn (fluff & hurt/comfort)

A Breath Of Fresh Air - (Dubcon Smut)

[yuujispinkhair]

Separation Anxiety (Chapter 13)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 5k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

A little reminder for this chapter: In this AU, Shibuya and the Culling Game never happened.

Chapter 13

You've been my God, and when you're gone, I'm godless. But with my eyes closed, I'm still dancing in your love (Godless by BANKS)

Yuuji's POV:

Yuuji feels like he is trapped in a nightmare. It's similar to the feeling he initially had when, all those months ago, he woke up in a room he didn't know, with all his memories gone. But the difference is that back then, the nightmare soon dissolved, and while things were still weird for the first few days, Yuuji soon felt comfortable and was able to adjust to the life that Sukuna showed him. The life that Yuuji believed was his. 

But now, all that comfort and warmth is gone, ripped out of his hands and soul so cruelly. This is a nightmare Yuuji cannot wake up from.

He cannot bring himself to feel at home in this weird private school outside of Tokyo, surrounded by people he doesn't remember who keep telling him nightmarish things about curses and sorcerers and a fight between good and evil, which apparently Yuuji is part of.

A world in which Yuuji is the hero and Sukuna is the villain.

The first time they told him who Sukuna really is, Yuuji laughed hysterically. It seemed utterly insane. And yet, it matched the things Sukuna had said to him before he kicked Yuuji out.

The sorcerers showed Yuuji ancient records dating back over a thousand years, which talked about the strongest sorcerer of the Heian era. A King, a monster so terrifying and powerful that he was compared to a natural disaster.

The King of Curses. Ryomen Sukuna.

A name that is still feared today, a name that stands for bloodshed and cruelty, an ancient evil that everyone wishes had never been awakened again.

But Sukuna came back. He came back through Yuuji. He lived inside Yuuji for years, shared a body with him, and entwined their souls.

And Yuuji can still feel it.

His hand automatically comes up to his chest, pressing it against the spot that always feels so hollow now, like something is missing there, like there is a wound inside him that aches and bleeds and yearns for that missing piece. He wonders if Sukuna can feel it, too.

Everything feels strange.

Yuuji knows he should be appalled. And he is. He feels sick when he hears the stories about Sukuna. But at the same time, he cannot let go of the doubts running through his mind. Because the man Yuuji lived with, isn't the same person those records talk about. This monster everyone warns him about isn't at all like the man waiting in that fancy penthouse apartment. That caring, funny, and loving man who made Yuuji so happy.

Of course, looking back, Yuuji has to admit that there were several things that seemed off. Things that seemed utterly ludicrous or made no sense if Yuuji tried to dig a bit deeper. He had been aware of those, but had decided to ignore them.

He can recall feeling uneasy around Sukuna at first. This weird feeling of being prey that got cornered by its predator, like an insect caught in a spider's web. It had made the hairs on Yuuji's arms stand up. But Yuuji had swallowed that uneasiness down, refused to show it, and bravely fought it with all his power. He didn't want to make the man who took him in and looked after him feel like Yuuji was scared of him. Yuuji didn't want to seem ungrateful. He didn't want to hurt the person who said he was Yuuji's boyfriend.

And after all, it simply never occurred to Yuuji that someone would make up a story like that just to keep him with them. So he ignored that weird feeling and told himself he was stupid for being wary. Because why should he be scared of his own boyfriend?

And soon, things felt different. Soon Yuuji felt drawn to Sukuna. Soon, he felt at ease around him. Soon, he really liked Sukuna. And he chided himself for thinking something seemed off in the beginning. Sukuna was sweet to him! He was caring and understanding and so patient with Yuuji and his recovery. He was the perfect boyfriend.

Looking back at it now, Yuuji knows that it was just part of the plan that was supposed to lead to his downfall. But was it really just that?

In the beginning, it probably was. But after that? After several months of living together? Didn't Sukuna seem really distraught and sick with worry when Yuuji got injured? Hadn't it been real love looking back at Yuuji out of those beautiful sapphire eyes when they made love during that thunderstorm?

When Yuuji thinks of Sukuna, he doesn't see red eyes and bloodshed. He doesn't see a cruel smirk, and violence. When Yuuji thinks of Sukuna, he sees a genuine smile and light blue eyes that were always so warm when they looked at Yuuji. He sees a warm, loving hand reaching out to him to hold him, to guide him, to take care of him.

The memories make Yuuji choke. Make him hug himself tightly as a deep longing fills him, so strong that it manifests in physical pain.

The people at the Jujutsu Academy try to tell him it is all just a lie, that the love he and Sukuna shared has never been real. But that's not how it feels to Yuuji.

Am I too naive? Was it really all just a game to Sukuna?

Yuuji cannot believe it, even after everything they told him. He is still haunted by the tenderness of the last kiss Sukuna breathed onto his cheek and the sadness written all over Sukuna's face when he pushed Yuuji away. That wasn't the face of a man who was just playing a cruel game. That was the face of someone who had his heart ripped out of his chest.

Yuuji wants to leave. He wants to go home.

It's not that the people here at the academy are mean to him. They aren't at all. Everyone is very nice to him. They look at him with eyes that hold empathy and sadness. Yuuji can easily believe that those people used to be his friends in a life he can't remember. Megumi and Nobara seem nice and truly worried about him. Yuuji is sure that in his former life, the three of them got along really well.

But even though he is convinced they mean well, he can't bring himself to accept any of it. Everything feels wrong now that everything he believed was true is suddenly revealed as a big lie.

His former teachers, now coworkers, try to re-introduce Yuuji to his life as a jujutsu sorcerer. They show him documents, pictures, and all kinds of twisted things that shouldn't even exist. And Yuuji asks a thousand questions. Sometimes, he receives sad smiles in return and no real answer. Other times, he gets the cold, hard truth that sends him spiraling even further and yet makes him feel strangely better because at least he knows they aren't holding things back from him.

He finds that the white-haired, tall guy, Gojo, is the most open about things. At times, what he tells Yuuji seems tactless and cruel, but Yuuji appreciates that someone tells him everything instead of treating him with kid gloves.

Gojo is also the one who answers Yuuji's most pressing question.

They are sitting at Gojo's desk. Various files are spread out on the table, reports about former missions. Yuuji's skin tingles unpleasantly anytime Gojo casually mentions how many victims there had been in each case.

The life of a jujutsu sorcerer seems to be filled with blood and death. Sorcerers have to kill, and it makes a feeling of dread wash over Yuuji, which gradually grows stronger and stronger until he can't take it anymore and he asks what has been plaguing him ever since they opened that first file,

"Did... did I kill someone, too?"

"Yes."

That single word makes black spots dance in front of Yuuji's eyes as he clenches his fists so tightly that his nails draw blood.

"You had to do it, Yuuji. Don't blame yourself for it. Those were people who got transfigured into something else completely. You gave them peace by doing it. You are a good person."

Yuuji can only huff at that. Just yesterday, he read about several clan heads getting murdered by Sukuna a thousand years ago, and the reports painted Sukuna as a ruthless monster. And now Yuuji listens to the deaths that were caused by his own hands, but the reports file it under a job well done, a success for humanity.

Blood is rushing in his ears.

Everyone here tells him that the sorcerers are on the good side and that they protect people. And, of course, Yuuji likes the thought of being a hero. He likes the thought of fighting evil. But the problem is that he is painfully becoming aware that things rarely are just as black and white as a lot of people seem to believe.

Yuuji's face twists in a pained grimace as he thinks of those horror movies he recently watched with Sukuna, The Human Earthworm series, and how Yuuji felt a strange sympathy for the monster. The series had touched him in a way that he wasn't able to explain, but maybe he is beginning to understand it now.

Is there 100% evil and 100% good? Who decides who is a monster?

Yuuji gulps hard as he thinks again about that one special file with his name on the front. The red one. The one that contains information about how he became part of the jujutsu society. The circumstances of his birth. How he was made to be the perfect vessel or, rather, the perfect cage for Sukuna. And the document that states that Yuuji was sentenced to death. He found out that it was only thanks to Megumi and Gojo that his execution had been suspended. But most members of the jujutsu society still refuse to see him as a human being. In their eyes, Yuuji is a monster, too.

Gojo's large hand reaches out and ruffles Yuuji's hair in what is supposed to be a soothing gesture. But Yuuji flinches away from it. The gentle touch reminds him too painfully of Sukuna.

He excuses himself and flees to his room, hiding in the bed that feels too small and too cold and too empty.

He switches on the TV in a desperate attempt to distract himself and drown out all the thoughts that keep torturing him. But unbidden, his mind wanders to memories of pink hair on black silk sheets, beautiful sapphire-colored eyes that look deeply into his, and strong, tattooed arms reaching out to hold him gently. Yuuji imagines he can still feel the warmth of those arms around him, and before he even realizes what he is doing, he hugs himself in an attempt to soothe the longing those memories cause.

No matter how fake things might have been in the beginning, the last few months with Sukuna had been wonderful.

They lived in their own little world. They only had each other and Uraume. But it was enough. It was perfect. Sukuna and Yuuji watched movies every night, they laughed together, they went on dates, they made love, they kissed for hours and drowned in each other's eyes, and Yuuji felt as close to Sukuna as he thinks one can possibly feel to another person. They were happy. They were in love. And Yuuji wants that back!

A strangled sob escapes his lips, and he pushes himself up into a kneeling position. His fist connects with his pillow, punching it desperately as more sobs shake his body and angry tears run down his face.

Why can't I let go?

Why does that place in his chest still ache so much, as if his soul is bleeding? As if it yearns and screams for its other half. The other half that is supposedly evil incarnate and yet feels like the only thing that can make Yuuji feel okay again.

Yuuji is sitting in the dining area with Megumi and Nobara, listening half-heartedly to their bickering. Nobara is talking about a shopping spree she wants to do, and Megumi chides her for spending too much money on useless things. But Yuuji's mind is filled with memories of walking through the city with Sukuna only a few weeks ago. The feeling of Sukuna's thumb caressing his wrist when Yuuji took his hand. The smile on Sukuna's face when Yuuji came out of the changing room in a fine black suit he tried on in one of the designer stores.

Before he can stop himself, Yuuji blurts out,

"I want to go home."

Silence settles over the table. Nobara and Megumi have both stopped talking mid-sentence and stare at him before they both ask at the same moment,

"Why would you want to go back?"

It's almost comical how they stare at him with such incredulous expressions on their faces. But Yuuji can't find the situation funny. He feels a whole array of contradicting emotions curse through him. Guilt, because these are his friends, and they are worried about him and want to protect him, and he is so stubborn and refuses to let them save him. Sadness because despite everything, he misses Sukuna. And a steadily growing irritation that everyone here claims they know what's best for Yuuji without actually listening to what he wants. And that's what makes him stare back at his friends challengingly,

"Because I miss my home, of course. And I miss Sukuna."

His friends stare at him as if he has lost his mind. Nobara is the first to react. Her small fists land loudly on the wooden table, and she practically yells at him,

"Are you fucking dumb? He is the King of Curses! You cannot go back to him!"

And then Megumi's low voice joins in, calmer than Nobara but still obviously furious.

"We told you who he is and what he did. How can you still want to go back? Snap out of it, Itadori! This is your home! Here at the academy, with us. You wouldn't be safe with Sukuna. Don't be stupid."

"But the person you told me about, this King of Curses. That isn't the Sukuna I know! The Sukuna I know isn't evil!"

Yuuji knows how stupid he sounds, trying to argue and ignore the truth. Acting like a stubborn and naive child. But he can't help it. Nothing makes sense anymore. The person they tell him about sounds like a stranger to Yuuji. Nothing they tell him about Sukuna sounds like the man Yuuji lived with. The man he shared his bed with. The man he watched movies with every night. The man who carried him to bed when Yuuji fell asleep. The man he laughed with, the man he cuddled with, and went on morning runs in the park with. Nothing they say sounds like the man Yuuji was in love with, and who, as Yuuji still firmly believes, loved him too.

Megumi looks at him with his blue eyes, which are a darker shade of blue than Sukuna's. His usually so calm voice is trembling lightly,

"He is a bad person. He killed people."

A hysterical laugh escapes Yuuji's lips at that.

"So did I, apparently, and you too. Everyone here is a murderer, Megumi."

"That's different!"

"Maybe I had good reasons for it, maybe I didn't. All I know is that there is blood on my hands, too! So, who am I to judge? Maybe Sukuna thought he was in the right, too. We don't know it! Were you there a thousand years ago? Did you see it happen? Do you know Sukuna? Because I do! And he isn't the evil monster you are trying to tell me he is!"

Yuuji knows he sounds delusional, but he cannot stop. He adds stubbornly,

"Think what you want, but he isn't the way you say. And I want to go home and see him again because I love him."

Megumi looks like Yuuji hit him. He shakes his head, eyes pleading helplessly with Yuuji now, his face twisted with worry.

"It's not love, Itadori..."

Yuuji knows Megumi means good, but he cannot stop himself from feeling anger rise in his chest. Anger that everyone treats him like a stupid child or some lunatic who has lost his mind. Anger that no one allows him to have his own opinion on the matter. Anger that no one actually listens to what he says. He glares at Megumi, his hands balled into fists under the table, but his voice is deadly calm, a low, dangerous growl,

"Don't tell me what my relationship is and what it's not."

Yuuji gets up so fast that his chair gets knocked over, but he doesn't care. He has to get away! He cannot bear looking into the pleading eyes of his former friends and hear their accusations and judgment. He cannot stand to see the worry in their eyes or hear the desperation in their voices as they try to save him from the monster that Yuuji refuses to see as a monster.

Or maybe he believes them. Maybe Sukuna is a monster. But after everything that Yuuji has learned about himself, he is pretty sure that he is a monster, too. Maybe that's why his and Sukuna's souls match so well.

Maybe we are two monsters who belong together. Maybe it takes a monster to love a monster.

Yuuji storms outside, breathing heavily as he runs towards the large gates, even though he already knows what will happen once he is close enough.

As expected, only a few seconds later, Yuuji runs into an invisible wall. It makes him stumble back, but instead of trying to regain his balance, Yuuji lets himself fall to the ground defeatedly, landing on his ass with a loud thud.

He tilts his head back to look at the slight glimmer in the air before him, which indicates where the powerful barrier starts. There is no use fighting it. Yuuji is effectively locked in here.

He laughs grimly at the irony that the sorcerers installed a barrier around the academy that keeps Yuuji locked inside while at the same time they try to tell him that Sukuna was the one who held him hostage.

At least Sukuna let me leave the house anytime I wanted.

Yuuji lets out a shaky breath. He knows no one believes him when he says that he and Sukuna were in love. He knows they are convinced it was just one-sided, that Yuuji got tricked into having feelings for Sukuna, while Sukuna only saw it as a cruel little game.

But Yuuji refuses to believe them. He knows that his and Sukuna's relationship wasn't just a lie.

He cannot forget the way Sukuna looked at him. And he can't help but think that he is the only one who truly knows Sukuna. The real Sukuna. Not the King of Curses. But the man behind that title. The man who thinks cherry blossoms look pretty, especially when they land on Yuuji's hair. The man who always has that happy expression in his eyes when he eats a good meal. The man who reads poetry and laughed even louder than Yuuji at certain movie scenes. The man who almost purred when Yuuji petted his hair and who was clinging tightly to his boyfriend in his sleep.

The thought makes Yuuji smile sadly. He can still remember how it felt to be wrapped in Sukuna's arms and in his love. And it still feels like the only thing that makes sense in this world.

How is Yuuji supposed to move on from something that felt so right? How is he supposed to believe that this is wrong?

Yuuji sighs. Tears slowly run down his cheeks, but he doesn't bother wiping them away.

It hurts. Everything hurts. There is this emptiness in Yuuji's chest again, as if something that is supposed to be there has been ripped out of him forcefully. And in moments like these, it grows stronger and turns from a dull ache to a stabbing pain.

He pulls his knees to his chest, hugging himself as he cries softly while sitting on the cold, stony path, probably looking like misery incarnated. But Yuuji cannot feel embarrassed even when Gojo finds him like this.

Gojo doesn't say anything but just sits down next to Yuuji, not close enough that they touch, but close enough so Yuuji can feel the warmth radiating from Gojo's body. They sit in silence for a moment until the words spill from Yuuji's lips.

"I want to see him again. I want my life back! Even if it isn't really my life, I want it back! But everyone tells me I am wrong for wanting it. Everyone tells me Sukuna is evil. All the reports say he is a monster. But I have all those other memories of him. Sukuna was so... He was sweet to me! Everyone tells me I am crazy and that I only got manipulated into thinking I love Sukuna, but that's not how it feels to me! It was real! And it hurts that I am not with him! I don't know what to do. I feel like a part of me is missing and that I will never be whole again if I cannot be with Sukuna."

Those otherworldly blue eyes look thoughtfully at him. There is no anger or judgment, only a deep, knowing sadness as if Gojo understands what Yuuji is talking about.

When Gojo answers, his voice is very different from the one he usually uses. There is no teasing undertone to it, no amused smirk on his face, no mockery. Instead, he sounds wary, as if the words he says to Yuuji have been haunting him for a long time.

"Love is the cruelest curse of all, Yuuji. We cannot control who we love, and even when we know a thousand reasons why we shouldn't love them, we still cannot change it."

Another sob escapes Yuuji's lips, and he nods wildly. Gojo smiles, but it's a sad smile, one of regret.

"I, too, thought Sukuna wasn't capable of love. But maybe I was wrong. I thought about it a lot after you came here and told your story. The thing is, If you ask anyone, they will tell you I am not capable of love either. But that's not true. I have loved in the past. I have loved so much that it became my biggest weakness."

Yuuji blinks at his former teacher, surprised that Gojo is talking about personal things. And that he doesn't seem to outright say Sukuna just played with Yuuji. Gojo smirks at Yuuji, but it isn't his usual aloof smirk. It looks forced and isn't able to hide the raw emotions underneath it. When Gojo continues, his voice is soft, carrying a vulnerability Yuuji hasn't seen in Gojo yet.

"The one I loved did terrible things, too. But that wasn't able to make me stop loving him. In the end, I killed him, and it still haunts me and I still ask myself every day if I could have done something differently. If I could have brought him back on our side. If I could have saved him if I just tried harder. That's my curse, and I carry it with me at all times."

And Yuuji understands. Gojo can relate to him. Yuuji smiles softly and offers a sincere, "I am sorry."

But Gojo isn't finished.

"Before your memory loss, the connection between you and Sukuna was a breeding ground for hate. Sukuna treated you and the ones you cared about with cruelty, and so you reacted fittingly and treated him with hate, too. But everything changed when you lost your memories. Because it meant that Sukuna was a blank page for you. And for whatever reason, he wanted you to believe he was your boyfriend, so he was nice to you. He didn't give you any reason to hate him. And so you treated him differently, too. You treated him with affection instead of hatred. Maybe that is what changed everything."

Yuuji gulps hard and looks at his former teacher with a racing pulse and a flicker of something in the back of his mind. A thought, an understanding, that sits deep inside him, but he cannot quite catch yet.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe there is more to that whole fake-boyfriend thing. What if Sukuna himself wasn't aware of the real reason why he did it? What if this whole idea was born out of a deep-buried wish, maybe? Something Sukuna didn't even know he craved: To get a taste of what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that genuine love that you have in you? He watched you give that love to everyone around you all those years he spent inside your body. He saw it when you were kind to strangers and ran to everyone's rescue. He saw it in the way you treated your friends. So, what if, deep down, Sukuna wanted to be on the receiving end of that love, too, for once?

And he got that from you after you lost your memories, didn't he? You gave him love, Yuuji. Because that's just what you do. That's who you are.

You are so genuine, so sweet, and full of love. You come to others with open arms and affection, ready to save everyone and give your life for them. There is no one else who is better at making people's hearts melt. You are the embodiment of love.

And maybe that is what Sukuna needed. Maybe this was the only way he could learn about love. Maybe he needed you to show him. If anyone is able to teach Sukuna how to love, I am sure it is you."

Yuuji stares at Gojo, utterly touched by his words, his mind whirling. He lets out a shaky breath and wipes his eyes with his palms.

"So... does that mean you believe me that what Sukuna and I had was real? You believe me that Sukuna loves me too and is no danger to me?"

Gojo laughs softly, but Yuuji can see the seriousness of the situation in those otherworldly blue eyes.

"What I believe is that if Sukuna wanted, he would have already attacked us. He would have already burned down this whole city months ago and killed everyone who didn't fall on their knees in front of him. But did he do any of that?

He didn't. And there is no logical explanation for it. The only thing I can think of is that you are the reason. Sukuna changed his agenda because of you. Maybe he isn't interested in those things anymore because he found something else, something more powerful. Maybe he chose you and your love instead of the destruction and solitude he was used to."

Gojo's gaze burns into Yuuji's as the seconds tick by, and his words sink in. Yuuji feels like he will choke on the fresh tears that threaten to spill over. He wipes furiously at his eyes, gulping hard. And Gojo smiles that sad smile again before he adds,

"If you want to leave, you are free to do so. I won't let them keep you a prisoner, especially not since I think they got it all wrong. You are far more powerful than they think or than you think. You were created to be the perfect cage for Sukuna, the only one strong enough to control him. And I think that's what you still do. You still have control over Sukuna, even now that you are two separate people. Maybe that is the fate Sukuna can't escape from.

It's quite ironic, isn't it? Sukuna isn't trapped inside your body anymore, but you still have control over him because he cares about you now. That's why I think you are still everyone's life insurance, and it would be pretty counterproductive to keep you and Sukuna apart. You still serve as a cage for the King of Curses because you made him fall in love with you."

And with that, Gojo makes a gesture with his hands. Yuuji feels a slight tingling sensation on his skin. The subtle glimmer in the air in front of him vanishes, and Gojo gets up and grins down at him, extending one hand to Yuuji.

Yuuji takes it and lets his former teacher pull him to his feet, his gaze fixed on the now barrier-free path before him.

Yuuji has barely reached the broad road leading into the city when a loud bark to his left fills the air. A moment later, a large dog is standing in front of him in the middle of the road. Yuuji skitters to a halt just when a familiar low voice speaks up behind him.

"Don't do it. Please, don't go back. I know what Gojo is doing. He is sending you back because he thinks you can serve as another cage for Sukuna. Don't you see it? This isn't about helping you. He is using you, just like they all do. Don't go, Yuuji. You finally have a chance to escape all of this. You have a chance to live your own life. You aren't Sukuna's vessel or cage anymore. You are free. Don't throw that away."

Megumi steps up to Yuuji, looking at him with those sad blue eyes filled with worry and longing, and Yuuji knows at that moment. He knows that Megumi truly cares about him. That Megumi wants to protect him. That Megumi loves him. It makes Yuuji's heart clench. His face softens, and he reaches out to pat Megumi's shoulder and smiles the broadest smile at him that he can,

"Thank you, Megumi. But you see, I want to go back. I am not doing this to sacrifice myself. I am doing it because I want it. I am doing it for me. Because I want that life back that made me happy. And I want to be with Sukuna. Or at least I want to talk to him and try to find a way to make this work."

"I don't think it is safe for you."

"I know you are worried about me, Megumi. Thank you for that, but I have to figure things out for myself. Because everything I learned here is very different from how I experienced things when I was still living with Sukuna. And you said it yourself. I am free. I want to use this freedom to find out the whole truth. Please understand that. That's all I'm asking."

Megumi sighs, his hands repeatedly balling into fists and unclenching again. He looks deeply into Yuuji's eyes as if he is searching for something.

"Can you promise me that you are really doing this for yourself?"

Yuuji nods wildly, his smile growing even bigger,

"I promise you. Trust me. It's going to be okay."

He feels a strange familiarity as if this has happened before. As if he has spoken those words to Megumi before. He sees Megumi's eyes widen, maybe remembering it, too. His lips tremble slightly as he stares at Yuuji for a long moment, but then Megumi nods slowly and takes a step back.

"Okay, I trust you. But be careful... and remember, if you die again, I'll kill you myself."

Yuuji stares at his friend's stern gaze for a moment, feeling that same sense of deja vu again. As if Megumi has said those exact words to him before, too. In his life before the memory loss, before the separation from Sukuna. As if this is some inside joke Megumi and Yuuji have, and it makes Yuuji laugh heartily, feeling lighter now that his friend seems to have his back.

Yuuji turns around and lets out a long breath. He will return to the city and to Sukuna. He doesn't know how things will be when he faces Sukuna again now that Yuuji knows the truth. He doesn't know how he will feel when he looks into Sukuna's eyes again. He doesn't even know if Sukuna will talk to him. But Yuuji knows that he wants to try. He knows that he needs to see the man again who impacted his life so profoundly, before and after the memory loss.

I know what I want, and I can be pretty stubborn. I won't give up that easily!

Thank you so much for reading! I struggled a lot with this chapter, but I worked so long on it and re-wrote and edited it many times, so I hope it is ok now!! I gave my best!

I needed to add a scene with Yuuji and Megumi because my heart was bleeding at the thought of what they lost. So I hope this little scene was able to make things better and show that they still have a deep connection based on genuine love.

And I cried so much at the whole "Sukuna unintentionally wanted to be on the receiving end of Yuuji's love" thing and that he changed because Yuuji finally treated him with love instead of hate. I personally really think that if anyone can teach Sukuna love, it is Yuuji.

Also, it makes me happy that our King of Selflessness, Itadori Yuuji, stands up for what HE wants ;)

Thank you so much if you are still reading this AU!! It means a lot to me!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[weird-an]

There is a crossroad just outside Hawkins, where corn grows so high it's hidden from anybody's view.

Blood runs down Billy's temple and his head pounds like Neil didn't stop hitting him. Neil who found his Mandate magazine and went fucking crazy.

Billy can't go back. Billy can't go back or he's going to get fucking killed. By his own father. He had never seen Neil so angry - and Neil has always been angry, but not like that.

He has thought about it for a while. It's just some make belief, some hocus pocus, but Billy needs a miracle. He doesn't wear shoes and pebbles tear his holey socks apart. He just grabbed the box and ran.

It's eerily silent. Almost midnight - he thinks. He doesn't have a watch. He digs through the ground with his bare hands. He buries the blue box he stole from Max in the hole. It's a jewelry box she never uses. He has gotten a bit of dirt from the local graveyard, a cat bone from a school's exhibit and an ugly photo from his last school in California where he had to smile while his back was still aching.

A fat drop of crimson blood drips on his fake smile. He wipes his forehead, before he can remember that his hands are dirty.

He stands up. Nothing happens.

It's a cold night. His breath forms little clouds, floating into the night. The moon is gone, waiting to get reborn. An endless circle of birth and death.

"What a surprise." Steve Harrington stands behind him. Same as usual, wearing a pastel blue and pink polo shirt and his ever perfect hair fluffy and only slicked back a little.

"Billy Hargrove needing help?" he scoffs - and it's almost as if they were on the court and not on a crossroad, about to make a deal. "Wanting to gift me his soul?"

There's a red shine in his eyes, but more in the way that it seems like a reflection.

"You're a... demon?" Billy asks. Maybe that's some stupid prank. Maybe that's an explanation why Harrington is so unearthly pretty. "And you're going to High School?"

And sucking at it, is something he doesn't add, but he knows how many classes Harrington is failing. Tommy won't shut up about it. He would have rather expected Hagan to be a fucking demon and not Harrington who now gives him a goofy grin.

"Oh, well..." Harrington says. "Let's say I made a deal a few years ago and then I unfortunately died early."

There's a headline Neil had read out loud to them before they moved here. About a girl, Barb Holland, being thought dead for three weeks - and then rising from the dead, ringing at her parent's door like she just went out to buy some milk.

"God has blessed this place," Neil had said. Apparently Hawkins is about as cursed as Billy feared it is.

"Enough about me." Harrington tilts his head. "What do you want?"

To live, to be free pops into Billy's mind, bright and colorful like a rainbow.

Billy thought about it a lot. First he thought he wanted his dad dead. So that he can never touch him again, so that he doesn't have to be afraid anymore. But if Neil dies, he doesn't have a father or a mother.

The thought is a dark shadow, making him sick.

"I want him to stop hurting me," he says instead. It won't heal the scars, it won't unbreak his bones, it won't make it forgotten, but maybe more bearable. It's what he wanted when he was five, when he turned ten, what he wants to today and what he always wished for whenever saw other people blowing out the candles on their birthday cakes.

Harrington's eyes flicker to Billy's bloody mullet and his dirty socks.

"You need to tell me his name," he says, a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I'm just a demon, not a mindreader."

"My dad," Billy grits out. "Neil.. Hargrove."

There is pity crossing Harrington's face, something he has always been afraid of, but it's gone within seconds, maybe only been a shadow and gets replaced with a red glow, irises more crimson than hazel now.

"Let's seal the deal." Harrington smiles, teeth shining white. "You know how we do it, right? Your soul for me doing you a favor."

Billy heard the stories. Billy didn't expect to become a part of them. Billy doesn't think he has a soul and if he does, it can hardly be worth anything.

Harrington smells like expensive aftershave and smoke.

Billy presses a kiss on Harrington's soft lips. It's a rush, a relief. He feels something shift, something clicking into space.

Harrington laughs into the kiss. "The deal is already done, Hargrove."

Which means Billy's soul is Harrington's now and Neil won't ever hurt him again. The blood on his temple dries. The cut on his scalp stopped throbbing, there's only a faint sting reminding Billy of its existence. He feels like he just jumped into the ocean on a hot summer's day.

He licks across Harrington's mouth, hungry for more.

"Greed and lust are sins, Billy." It almost sounds like a compliment.

Billy's throat turns dry and he wants to pull away, humiliation burning away the cool calm that has begun to spread inside his chest.

It's just a deal - and that's closed now.

Harrington tugs on his bottom lip, sharp pain joining the sweet sensation.

"If you ever feel like sinning, come and find me," Harrington purrs -

and then he's gone. Billy stands on the road, lips tingling, still smelling Harrington's aftershave on him.

He walks home. It's one of these nights when spring is about to fade, summer's heat lurking around the corner. Still cold, but not that he's shivering.

Cherry Lane is deserted, a few lights flickering when Billy comes home. The door is open. He doesn't hear Neil shouting at the TV.

He washes the blood off his face and goes to bed. He wonders if he can dream without a soul. He wonders if it's working. His lips burn and he still feels Harrington's mouth on his.

[fruitcoops]

4/13 for a sequel of sorts to backslide? been lovin coops extra recently. p.s. this is the cutest of prompt lists :))

#4: A kiss on the temple

#13: Kissing scars either shortly or long after they’ve healed

Backslide; tw for past injury

Sirius was kissing him. Just kissing. Just gentle. Just focused. Remus watched him work in silence, letting Sirius guide his limbs like a doll. It was kind of nice, not needing to do any work. All he had to do was lay there and be loved.

That in itself was a refreshing change. He was tired of reassuring people over and over again, yes I'm okay don't worry it's fine just a partial one no you don't have to bring food yes I promise, especially his friends. It was embarrassing to know it had been that bad from their point of view. Their intentions were good, but Remus couldn't handle another minute of being treated like glass.

Sirius kissed the sensitive dip of his elbow and laid his head on the bed next to it with a long exhale, watching Remus watch him while the world went by outside.

"I'm okay," Remus said quietly. He reached up to push Sirius' hair out of his eyes and got a nuzzle on the hand for his troubles. He couldn't help but smile. "I'm okay."

Silver eyes tracked over his torso and settled on his other arm, still strapped to his body for another two days. At least the sling was comfortable. Sirius shifted and tucked his feet under the blankets they had kicked away. "I'm trying to believe you."

"I really am, baby."

"It's not that I don't trust you."

"Sirius," he whispered.

"It's not," Sirius repeated. "You would tell me if you were hurting. It's impossible to see this and not want to fix it, though."

We're both afflicted with chronic 'I can fix him', Remus thought as he let Sirius' hair flow over his fingertips. Look where it's got us. He let his hand fall and tugged on Sirius' sleeve. His visible care to avoid Remus' bad side when he scooted closer to lay on him made love beat like moth's wings in his chest; Remus buried his face in the soft cotton of his shirt and inhaled deeply, soap and laundry and Sirius, not a tinge of antiseptic. The cracking, aching thing next to his heart heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's just time and ibuprofen at this point. Kisses and cuddles are a bonus."

"I'll pass the message along to the guys."

He could feel Sirius' wry grin when he groaned. "Oh, god, no, I've been coddled within an inch of my life already."

"It makes them happy to baby you."

"I wish I knew why so I could never do it again."

"It's because you're so cute." Sirius went to give his cheek a playful pinch and Remus batted him away, laughing. A smacking kiss landed on his temple instead; Sirius pressed their faces tight together. Remus felt him relax, weighing him down like a giant heat pad, one thigh slung over his own and a hand tracing patterns on his belly. Sirius nudged at him once more before returning to his work, dropping kisses wherever he could reach.

He paused at the edge of the sling. Remus kissed the shell of his ear. "You can."

He did.

It was funny, being kissed there. Remus couldn't help the squirmy feeling it gave him, somehow more intimate than being kissed anywhere else. It would never be erotic--and judging from Sirius' reaction, he felt the same--but it gave him the same overwarm fast-pulsed charge that a suggestive hand on the knee might. It was being seen and known in the most blatant way.

Not today, though. No, not today.

"It's not fair," Sirius murmured. Remus shook his head and wove his fingers in dark curls. "I want--I want to take it all away."

"I would let you."

Sirius lifted his head an inch and let his lips linger on the shiny scar marking the pin's entry point all those years ago. Remus was sick of it and grateful. The pin had done its job. His shoulder was stronger, was set in place. The jerk-around hurt, but it was so much more bearable now. His skin cooled when Sirius turned away to put his head on Remus' bare chest. "I'll be here."

"I know."

[sunny-bunnys-blog]

I got the second part of dad Thousand complete and am now very sleepy, I hope you all enjoy this part :)

"Wait, what?!" Yuma exclaimed at Astral, his eyes wide as a deer in headlights. 

"So you're trying to tell me that Don Thousand, THE ACTUAL GOD OF CHAOS AND BARIAN WORLD, is your dad?! Why didn't you tell me?!" Astral paused for a moment before answering.

"I didn't even know that he was my father, I didn't remember it. But I'm happy I remember now, although…" "What? Is he giving you a hard time? I'll destroy him!" Yuma said, raising a first before getting cut off my Astral.

Panicked, Astral grabbed Yuma's hands and brought them down before speaking again. "No, it's not anything like that! It's actually quite the opposite, he seems to be watching my every move and seemingly panics when he thinks I've got hurt and I don't know why.”

“Well duh, that’s what parents do!” Yuma laughed, gaining a confused hum and tilted head from the blue alien. “Excuse me?” “y’know what i mean, right? Parents will always find something to worry about! Trust me, if you ever get sick and he finds out, he’ll probably freak!”

Ironically, a week after Yuma had said that, Astral had fallen ill with a fever

That day, Astral had woken up feeling worse than ever, his entire body was aching and he felt cold. He decided to try to ignore it and put on his school uniform.

But this didn't go unnoticed by Don Thousand. Oh no, he noticed Astral looked ill.

"Astral." Don Thousand said to the teenager, causing him to tense up. 

Astral began to panic slightly, did he already know? He couldn't have, so Astral just needed to play it cool, right? "Y-yes, father?"

Don Thousand was sure of it, Astral's voice sounded weak and he seemed more tired than usual. "Are you okay? You look sick."

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine." Astral replied quickly, losing his voice halfway through and causing his father to become evermore worried.

Oh God, he knew, didn't he? All of a sudden, he felt Adonis's gentle hand on his forehead, making him completely freeze in place.

"You're warm. Too warm, so you won't be going into school today." "W-What?! No, I'm fine, I swear!" Astral cried, but his voice only made Don more sure of his choice.

"Don't argue with me and get back to bed, you're sick." Don Thousand said, making his son pout but he was quick to obey. 

But strangely enough, he wished that Astral would disobey for once. He wished that his son had more of that teenager mischief in himself to talk back.

Oh well, he might, one day.

By the time Don Thousand went to check on Astral, he seemed to already be asleep. He smiles softly and crouches near the bed.

His heart squeezes a bit when he lays his eyes on the scar across his precious child's face. If he had only known where Eliphas had taken Astral, he could've stopped this all from happening!...

Astral begins to groan in his sleep, squirming around uncomfortably and frowning. He was having a nightmare again.

Thinking quickly, the adult held the teenager's hands softly so as to not hurt him and ran his thumb over his palms.

Eventually, Astral stopped moving around and was peaceful again, a tiny smile finding itself onto both of the alien's faces.

"Oh Honeybee, what did I ever do to deserve a son like you?.." He places a tender kiss on the scar and begins to raise to go, only to be stopped by a weak tightening on his wrist.

It was Astral. He was still asleep, but gripped his wrist despite that. "Papa… love you…" Astral whispers in sleep, hugging his father's hand.

Don Thousand sits back down next to the bed, watching as his only child holds his hand. "I suppose… that I can stay for a little longer.."

[stickytrigger69]

hello! could i have a chubby transmasc reader laying on breakdown or starscream’s (whichever one you feel like) chassis without a shirt on, just kinda relaxing after a long day? maybe it turns spicy w/ body worship?

Breakdown x Transmasc Reader

Reader is transmasc

Reader is a chubby human 😊

NSFW

Despite reader being afab the genitals of said reader are unspecified

I chose to go with post op, hope it's to your liking

Implied poly relationship with KO and BD

Author's note: I am working on the other asks I've received. I've just had a run in with the good old writers block but they should all be done by valentine's day 😊 hope you liked this one.

P.S. I'm sorry this one was kinda short *scratches the back of my head bashfully*

----------------------------------------------------------------

Today had been awfully stressful and way too long. It was like it was dragged out, the sun taunting you as it remained in one place all day. It had barely begun to set while Breakdown drove you out to be picked up by a groundbridge. So tired. You can't wait to finally just relax and get out of the stupid uniform you're wearing.

You're just glad that you don't have to wear a binder anymore. It always added to the stress, overwhelming you more than you needed it to. The heat paired with the long hours and sometimes horrible customers had really been dragging you down. Having Breakdown and Knockouts support was what kept you going though. There was one thing you did miss about it though, the feeling of their cool digits smoothing out and massaging your sore chest after wearing your binder for hours on end.

It always made you smile when you remembered their reactions when you told them you wanted top surgery.

----- Flashback -----

"Well, I do prefer a partner with a larger chassis but, if you insist." Knockout said, placing a servo on his own chassis and the other on Breakdowns. Said mech looking at his smaller partners servo.

"Yeah," He looks up from the servo to focus on you, "are you sure you really want to? From what I understand, fleshies such as yourself don't exactly take too nicely to such cosmetics."

"Well first of all, yes I want to, second of all, it's not 'cosmetic'. It's so I can feel better. You guys know how I feel about it. Its what i really really want, im sick of this stupid thing." You hold up your binder. "And this," you motion to your breasts, "this is nothing but a hindrance and i would feel so much better if i could get them out of the way." The two mechs looked at eachother, talking through their spark bond.

----- End Flashback -----

"Sweetspark?" Breakdowns voice is clear in your ears.

"Hmm?" You look up at his red faceplate.

He smiles at you, "my poor little fleshie. What's got you distracted? Are your scars aching again?" His helm tilts to the side, concern in his optics. They are still kind of new but the aching doesn't really happen as often anymore.

"Hm, oh, no. I'm okay, just a little tired, i just want to lay in bed for the next 12 hours." You give him a small smile of your own and returns it with a chuckle. He picks you up off the table you use as a small lounge space and starts walking to the large berth. He sits and stands you on his lap and starts tugging at your shirt.

"Take it off." He says. You obey and undo the buttons and pull the ends out from inside your slacks. You roll down the sleeves and begin to pull the shirt off. Breakdown loses his patience and pinches the back of the shirt with his index digit and thumb and pulls it off for you. Your arms are gently pulled back with the shirt and he tosses it somewhere on the floor.

Once your chest is bare he takes the time to pull off your shoes then lays down. He holds you above him for a moment just looking at you then lowers you down to his chassis. It's warm and vibrates gently with the idle thrum of his engine. You sigh deeply, finally relaxed and comfy. A large servo gently caresses your back, tickling you slightly.

You close your eyes for a little while, listening to his engine and feeling the metal of his hand on your skin. For a man made of metal, he's rather warm. His touch is soft and gentle too, and for a while he lightly rubs your back. He starts heating up even more and picks you up again and lays you down, only now you are staring up at the ceiling.

"Y'know, I don't much like fleshies," his voice is soft and low, "you are something special." The praise causes your cheeks to warm up. "And you caught Knockouts optics? That's no easy feat, and a damn near impossible one for a fleshie. When he said he liked you I knew it was because you were different." He lets out another little chuckle. "I mean, look at you, your perfect little frame, your round face. You're so soft too. Not to mention how gorgeous you are sweetspark." He continues to heat up and his cooling fans whir to life. You start to heat up too, your face getting hotter the more he talks.

He clearly knows what he's doing. The touches, the compliments, his sultry voice. It lights a fire in you and makes your stomach flip and heart beat faster. His servo on your side begins to caress lower and lower, finding purchase on your hip.

"I love how soft you are, your extra flesh gives pleasure like nothing I've ever known." He pinches you a couple of times before he's lifting you up again. Sitting you up so you could face him. Your legs wrap around him as best as they can, the light vibrations from his chassis a small sensation that you can barely register. He oggles your bare chest, analyzing the soft, plump flesh.

A servo on either thigh as he smiles at you knowingly. Thumbs rubbing circles on them, getting awfuly close to the sensitive area between your thick thighs. His stare is intense and you feel like hiding yourself, like covering yourself up. He catches on to the small change in your demeanor and sits up while holding you in place.

"You are the most attractive fleshie I've ever laid my optics on." One of his large thumbs finds its place rubbing on your clothed sex. "So soft and plump; perfect." Your hand holds onto his larger one that's rubbing your chest. Your eyes close tight as he adds pressure, legs opening wider. He lays you down, your head close to the edge of the berth, and starts pulling at your pants. You hastily undo your belt and pant button but before you can pull down the fly he's already slipping them off your thick thighs.

He leans down and starts trailing kisses down your face to your stomach.

"Breakdown." Your voice is breathy. His thumb is still rubbing on your sex. He lets his tongue roll over your nipple causing you to let out a moan. He continues like this for a while until finally he's relieving you of your boxers and packer as he spreads your fluids around. His tongue switching from one nipple to the other.

It's not long until he pulls an orgasm from you, your body shakes and you release a loud moan.

"Oh, Breakdown!" You cry.

"I'm not done with you yet fleshie." He smirks as his panel slides away. His large spike on display. And though you couldn't take it, it made you excited. You stare at it, thoughts running wild. He lets out a deep chuckle and starts to stroke himself.

"Touch yourself for me sweetspark." He commands and you obey with a whimper. "You're absolutely gorgeous, a real 'pretty boy' as they call 'em, right? Yeah, that's you isn't it?" He strokes himself faster as he stares at you. Watching your little hands as you work yourself up once more.

"Mmm, Breakdown." You moan his name. His free servo reaches down to trace your scars and rub at your nipples.

"What is it my sweetspark?" He grunts as his digits squeeze the base of his spike.

"Ngh, I love you." You croak.

"Mm I love you too sweetspark, so much." He groans. "Mmm, I'm going to paint you in my transfluid. Would you like that sweetspark? For me to paint your gorgeous frame?"

"Y-yes." You moan out. Hands working faster as you get close to your orgasm. He chuckles and leans down to kiss your round face. His free servo pinches one of your thick thighs.

"Say it," He says with a groan, "say that you're perfect. Tell me that you know you are a living God, that you are like Primus himself." His orange optics look deep into your eyes.

"I-I'm;" you pause, it's hard to breathe.

"C'mon sweetspark," He grunts again, servo stroking his spike as fast as he can, chasing his overload just as fervently as you are yours, "I know you can do it."

"I'm, fuck," you swallow thickly, "I'm a-oh! A God!" You cry out, your climax is so close. The air is thick and laced with static. Your back arches up from the berth as the large blue mech above you thrusts his spike into his hand.

"Ngh, yes! You're my perfect little God. Your perfect frame, your gorgeous face." His optics close and his spike twitches as his overload crashes into him. Transfluid hitting the berth just above your head. Large drops landing on your chest.

"Oh, Breakdown!" You cry out as your body spasms. Legs shaking and back arching. White flashes over your eyes as your orgasm hits you hard. His stroking slows and then comes to a stop as he vents shallowly.

"I love you sweetspark. My little fleshie." He smiles lovingly as he smears his transfluid over your stomach. "So handsome and perfect, I love when your little face changes colors. Red really suits you little one." The same thumb that was on your stomach now caressing your cheek, smearing the fluid there. Your hair is stuck to your forehead.

"I love you too Breakdown." You return the smile and close your eyes, trying to catch your breath. The loud whir of his cooling fans and deep thrum of his engines fills your ears. Your heart is still pounding.

"Awww, did I miss all the fun already?" Your eyes snap open and your head whips to the source of the voice. Knockout stands against the wall, his arms crossed over his chassis. "I had a feeling I should have stayed here and waited for you two. You just took so long and I got restless." His servos wave around and he starts walking toward the berth.

"Well, I'm not sure if our soft one here has it in them, but I'm ready to go another round." Breakdown smirks at you then looks up to the cherry red mech standing right next to him. Knockout returns the smirk looking into Breakdowns optics. They both stare at eachother for a little while and then focus their attention on you. You let out a weak groan knowing that even if you weren't strong enough to handle it, you had a long night ahead of you.

[dudadragneel]

Here it is!! This one is for @sicklycutefluff. Thank you so much for requesting this!

I'm sorry this one took a while. Just a quick notice, some of this is actual information from the series, and some I just got it from my imagination in a way that would make sense 😅

[ ] Midoriya

[ ] Uraraka

[ ] Iida

[ ] Todoroki

] Tsuyu

[ ] Aoyama

- Quirks and their consequences.

In the super-human society, about 80% of the population possess some sort of special talent called "quirk". It can also be called individuality. This ability opened a path to a new profession, "hero"; and because of that, a special school was opened to train the youth who aimed to be pro heroes in the future, UA.

Although this special ability gave you superpowers, such as levitating, super strength, the ability to become invisible, super speed, etc; it also had its downside.

Most of these abilities had an impact on the user's body, and if not used correctly, they could leave permanent damage. As some may say, everything has its price. 

In class 1-A at UA, a lot of the students possessed a quirk that directly affected their bodies. 

Midoriya, who inherited All Might's power, One For All, constantly suffered injuries due to the amount of power his quirk had. Multiple times the young boy had broken bones, and eventually, he was told that if he continued to use his power he could lose the ability to use his arms. 

Todoroki, a boy who had both fire and ice quirks, for a long time only used his ice quirk. And the reason behind that was the hatred he had for his father, Endeavor, who had a flame quirk and made Todoroki's mother go crazy because of what he did to two of their children. And all of that left a scar on Todoroki's face as well. It was not until his fight against Midoriya during the Sports Festival that he began to use his fire quirk. But now, using both of them meant that he had a hard time regulating his body temperature, which resulted in him getting fevers quite constantly, and also regulating his flame temperature so as to not seriously harm others. 

Uraraka, the sweet girl had a levitation quirk and although her powers helped save midoriya at the very beginning of their school year, it had its consequences on her body. Every time she used them, she would get really nauseous and therefore could no longer fight.

All of them were gathered to train their bodies and powers to get more control over them and also, get stronger.

Midoriya was focused on getting his kicks right, as now he used his quirk as "shoot style" to give his arms a break.

Todoroki was working on regulating his flames temperature and getting his body to adapt to such extreme conditions. And Uraraka was training so that she could use her quirk without getting sick.

And today, they were joined by Aoyama. 

Aoyama was a sparkly boy with a sweet personality. After some events, he grew close to Midoriya. During one of the training sessions for class 1-A, the one in which Midoriya first showed his Shoot Style to All Might and the whole class, Aoyama talked with him about how they were alike. Both of them had quirks that weren't compatible with their bodies, which caused more damage than good. 

Aoyama's quirk allowed him to shoot a beam from his belly button, but even though he considered it beautiful, the power had its effects on him. He would constantly have stomach aches during fights or training, and honestly, the only training he could do was constantly use it so to grow his body used to it. But that only made things worse.

As usual, Midoriya was focused on getting his Shoot Style perfect, with the right amount of strength so as not to damage his legs as well. 

Todoroki kept using his quirks alternatively to get used to activating his flame quirk as fast as his ice.

Uraraka kept floating all the time, with Tsuyu helping her out every time the nausea was too much to deal with and she had to stop levitating.

Iida was running laps around the training block and kept motivating his classmates all the time while also paying close attention to them.

And Aoyama was using his beam constantly, one shot after the other.

But, unlike the other days, in which he would only get a stomach ache, this time he was starting to feel nauseous. At first, it felt like it was only mild discomfort, but it grew stronger.

Aoyama did want to become stronger, he wanted to be able to use his power more, but he also didnt want to hurt his body to the point where he couldnt fight. So for the time being, he decided to take a break, and see if his stomach would settle down.

And his timing couldnt be better, as the Dekusquad was also taking a break.

They went to the corner of the training block and sat down on the floor to catch their breaths and drink some water, and recharge for the next round. But no one dared eat anything, they knew eating and training right after was the worst combination possible.

They took the opportunity to give each other advice as well.

- Todoroki-kun, how is your training going? Do you think you're getting somewhere?

- Hm. I think I'm getting the hang of it. But it's still hard to find a balance. The heat is still too strong and it makes me dizzy.

- I see. I dont know exactly how you feel about using your flame quirk, but maybe, deep inside it still bothers you? I mean, maybe your negative feelings towards it are keeping you from being able to lower the temperature of the flames? 

- You might be right. Thanks, Midoriya.

- Uraraka-kun, and your training? Any progress?

- Yes! I can keep my quirk activated for more than an hour now! That's 30 minutes longer than before. But the nausea is still a bother, not much, but still keeps me from giving it all.

- That's good! Uraraka-kun! Keep pushing!

- And you, Deku-kun? We saw that you have a new fighting style now. Shoot style, right? That's cool!

- oh! Y-yeah! That's right. Since my quirk doesnt really adapt to me, I gotta be the one to adapt to it. I dont know if I ever told you guys this but.... if I kept using my arms to fight, there was a high chance that they'd stop working...

- Midoriya-chan....

- Deku-kun...

- No, no no! It's alright! After studying it, I discovered that using my legs was the best option. And I have it more under control now. And Hatsume's san costume is really helping!

They kept on chatting and giving each other advice for a long time. If possible, they wanted to train together but since they were experimenting new things, it was dangerous.

Eventually, Midoriya noticed Aoyama on a corner, all alone.

He wasnt that close to him, but they had a connection, and Midoriya could tell that something wasnt right. Aoyama was usually sparkly and happy and chatty, but he was too quiet and didnt have his usual expression on. He was looking in distress, in pain.

Seeing that, Midoriya excused himself from the group and went to meet Aoyama.

- Aoyama-kun? 

- Midoriya-kun...Hi!

He tried to sound cheerful but failed. He knew Midoriya wouldnt believe him if he said he was okay.

- Are you okay, Aoyama-kun? You seem off today...

- I'm okay... it's just... my stomach... my quirk seems to be affecting it a little more today

- Dont push yourself too hard, Aoyama-kun. You said it yourself that our bodies arent compatible with our quirks. We shouldnt push it to its limits, it wont help anything. Why dont you come sit with us for a while? Let's rest for a bit.

- Okay. I'll do it.

Aoyama sat with the group and they talked for a while, resting their bodies so they could resume training.

Aoyama would say something here and there but the whole time his stomach just kept acting up. From time to time, mild nausea would suddenly increase and he just kept quiet and tried to control his breathing so his stomach could settle down. It seemed to work so he thought it would be safe to resume training.

After about 45 minutes, the squad was ready to resume training again. They got up from where they were and made their way to their training spots. 

But as Aoyama stood up, his stomach jumped making him stop mid-way and grab his knees. Midoriya noticed that and went to his side.

- Aoyama-kun. Are you okay?

- I'm fine! I was just getting the dust off my clothes!

He said with a forced smile. Midoriya decided it was best not to insist and just accepted what the boy said and they both went back to training.

After about 50 minutes, the discomfort in Aoyama's stomach had grown basically unbearable. It kept doing revolting turns and he felt something tickling at the back of his throat every time he shot his beam.

Eventually, the feeling grew unbearable and he stopped shooting his beam, which Midoriya noticed. But before the green-haired boy could actually process what was happening, Aoyama bended abruptly getting Midoriya's attention.

He ran to Aoyama's side and held him by the waist and shoulders.

-Aoyama-kun! Are you okay? Hey!

- Midori-ugh!

The boy tried to reply but was cut off by a harsh gag and almost instantly his legs gave up on him. But thankfully Midoriya was there to make sure he wouldnt fall.

- Aoyama-kun! 

The fuss caught the attention of the others who also ran to their side.

-Aoyama-kun! Midoriya-kun! What happened??

- I dont know. When I turned to look at him he was already like this!

While the group discussed what could be wrong with him, he was trying his best to keep his stomach content inside. He kept his eyes shut, hands on his knees to support himself, and deep breaths in and out. He was so focused, the voices from the group began to fade away, but the nausea persisted.

- Aoyama-kun? What happened? What are you feeling?

- Midoriya-kun... I don- I dont feel well...

That was what he managed to say before shutting his mouth, afraid that if he kept on talking, everything would come out. 

But the nausea only increased. He bended even further and clamped his mouth shut.

- Aoyama-kun.... tell me, what are you feeling?

- I feel like- I'm gonna be sick...but I dont want to...

- Aoyama-kun, it's okay. You're safe here, alright? I've got you. You need to let it out. You'll feel better after.

But Aoyama was determined not to vomit. He was swallowing convulsively to the point where his mouth began to feel numb. He felt that if he vomited, he would be admitting that he was weak, that he would never be able to use his quirk properly, that he wouldnt be a good hero. What's the point in being a hero if I manage to help only a few people before needing to be helped myself?  Those were his thoughts for a long time.

Midoriya couldnt stand watching his friend in pain anymore so he decided to help. Whether Aoyama liked or not.

- Aoyama-kun, I'm sorry for doing this.

Those were his last words before he hugged Aoyama and pressed his stomach. The motion quickly brought up a thick wave of vomit that made Aoyama sway forward, but Midoriya caught him and supported him.

Another violent stream came up, not giving him time to breathe properly and making his back arch to the point where it hurt.

Midoriya then gently guided him to kneel on the floor before he threw up again.

It hurt, it hurt a lot because he hadnt drink much liquid so it was just thick wave after thick wave. 

- There you go. You're doing good. Just let it all out.

Throughout the whole time, Midoriya kept rubbing his back, up and down, then in circles. And that made Aoyama feel safe.

The rest of the group also jumped into action to help their sick friend.

- I'll got get some water and a clean cloth!

- I'll let Aizawa-sensei know about the situation.

Aoyama's stomach gave him only a few minutes break before beginning another round. But now only bile kept coming up, and it stung his throat.

After a while, the ordeal finally stopped. He couldnt say he felt better but he didnt feel as bad as before. But now he felt weak, too hot and sweaty and his vision was starting to blur. 

- Midoriya-kun.... I feel faint...and too hot...it feels like I'm suffocating...

- Okay, let's get you out of your hero costume. You're wearing something underneath, right?

- yes...

- there you go. Feeling better? Do you think you can lie down for a bit?

-yes...

- Here, Midoriya, take this.

While Midoriya was helping Aoyama, Todoroki decided to make an ice block and a few ice cubes to help Aoyama cool down a bit.

-Todoroki-kun! Thank you!

Midoriya grabbed the ice block and wrapped it with Aoyama's cape. It was a light one so the coolness from the ice block passed through it easily. 

- How does it feel?

- Relaxing...

After a few minutes, the rest of the group arrived.

- here, Deku-kun! The water. And a cloth!

- Thanks, Uraraka-san!

- I just talked with Aizawa-sensei. He said we should take him to recovery girl. 

- Okay. Here, Aoyama-kun. Can you drink a little bit? It's really cold, it'll feel good in your stomach. But take small sips or you'll make yourself sick again.

Aoyama gladly took the water bottle, and, as instructed, drank it in small sips. And just like Midoriya said, it settled down quite nicely. 

They stayed with him until he was feeling a little bit more stable.

After some time he deemed safe to sit up and sat up straight. But he did not dare lift his face. And before they could react, there were tears running down his face.

Everyone's heart dropped at the sight. Aoyama, the usually cheerful and chatty guy, was crying. Midoriya was so taken back he felt his stomach twist at the sight.

-Aoyama-kun. What's wrong!?

- I'm- I'm sorry-

- What are you apologizing for?

- I just caused you trouble. I interrupted your training.

- What are you saying?? There's no trouble at all! 

- I can't- I can't save people! I'll never be a true hero!

- What do you mean, Aoyama-kun? Of course you will!

- No. How can I be a hero when I'm the one that will need help in the end? What's the point in being a hero if I can only save a few people before needing to be helped myself? I'm not fit to be a hero...

- Aoyama-kun. You're wrong. 

- huh?

- Anyone can be a hero. You dont need to have a quirk to be called a hero. Everyone out there can be a hero. Helping someone cross the street, helping someone carry their stuff. It can be considered heroic acts, because you'll never know what is going on in a person's life. Maybe that minor act, will change their entire day. You'll never truly know.

It doesnt matter if you can only save a few people before you're out of battle. In the end, you'll have saved them. They will get to see another day because of you. And you shouldnt be ashamed for needing help, everyone needs help sometimes, our quirks arent meant to be perfect matches for us. And you shouldnt be worried if you'll need help after using your quirk. You're not alone. We're here. We'll always be here for each other. Those you cant save, we will save them. We'll always support each other. You are not alone in this fight, Aoyama-kun.

Aoyama didnt know how to answer Midoriya. All this time he felt different, he felt like someone who wasnt good enough. But now, he was surrounded by people who were trying their best to achieve their dreams, and aiming to be true heroes.

- Thank you, Midoriya-kun, guys.

Aoyama couldnt be more grateful for having encountered these people. They were truly his friends. 

[crackedopen]

𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭, 𝓸𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼- a Foxiyo angst one-shot

Hello there, 

As I’ve mentioned here, my mental health and university got caught on me and this led to me not posting anything both on my AO3, but also on my Tumblr. I’m sorry for that. 

Have this sweet painful Foxiyo one-shot as an apology, you can read it also on AO3.

(Obligatory TW for: gaslighting, mentions of erotic themes, torture, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of an assassination attempt)

Enjoy! 

The crimson red stilletos were now lazily propped up against the wall, leaving the souvenir from a 4 hour long meeting with The Council in the shape of tiny chaffs and scars on her ankles, dark blue against the cyan skin. The golden headband with two curved crescent moons at the front laying on the white and gold dressing table also left scars, in the form on the dull ache on both of her temples. She wished the traditional Pantoran garments weren't that heavy as she stood in front of the mirror and took of the nose stud linked to her earrings with a heavy chain.

Her royal purple shawl was looking at her from where it has been thrown across the chair, as if it was looking with annoyance.

You really fucked up as a Pantoran woman, Riyo.

The senator sighed.

Why am I not perfect, she asked herself before telling her faithful servant android to turn off for the night as it finished cleaning up.

There was a knock on the door. Riyo opened, tying a night robe around her waist in a hurry.

Her knees sank.

"Fox."

The bigger man in a civvie sherpa jacket scooped her up, kissing her without any tiny bit of patience.

Her eyes scorched his soul as they broke apart, gasping for air.

”Are you alright?”

"Yes. Very much so..." the guard purred low in his broad muscled chest visible from under a basic grey T-shirt "And you... Did you miss me?"

The Pantoran nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Yes, I did. I... I longed for you so badly. I thought my heart would break during that damned meeting. It took us four hours to finally decide what to do with The Chancellor. Four hours."

Fox's heart sank. The Commander was also on the brink of patience, sanity and consciousness. Everyone on Coruscant and in The Senate was.

And all of that because of one Sith Lord who was hiding all along under their noses, under the costly robes of The Chancellor of The Galactic Republic.

"Fox...." she mewled, her sky blue tattooed hand sliding across his chest, her own squeezing in pain and desire.

Her golden round eyes lined with smudged kohl meant only one thing.

The Pantoran almost squealed in an extremely non-senatorial way when the giant man picked her up like she weighted nothing to him (which was, frankly, quite probable), carrying her to her bedroom in a bridal carry.

Riyo purred, her hand caressing Fox's chest.

"I've missed you so much, Fox... I'm literally burning"

Fox chuckled, biting his lower lip not to hiss in pain. The boxing training was a pain in his ass today, so bad he could feel every singular thread of muscle under his skin taut with pain.

Just like that one time when a pale bony hand made his synapses scream, getting torn apart and shaken deep from the core by blue lightning creeping up and down his body. Forming spit and foam around his mouth, carving black and blue scars that could not be covered with exquisite ink he got to cover and adorn himself, to wrap his broken shell of a body in a cocoon of colors and shapes.

And the voices.

Oh, those were the worst.

"Well, I can say that too” he murmured, taking on a small smile, so small but yet so big it could hide all the anguish  “I feel like my training routine mixed with daily work in the Senate is kicking my shebs right now..."

Her purple lips curved in a soft smile.

"I can help~"

*

The elderly man’s blue (no, they were yellow, Fox was sure he saw a glimpse of yellow in those crystal-like irises, sick putrid yellow) eyes were cold, glacial, even though they burned. His smile cut through his soul like a spear thrown into his body, even though it was warm. Friendly.

No. There was nothing friendly about this smile. Small smile, making his pale wrinkled face even more distorted. Deformed, as if it was done by a dull knife.

Just like the one given to this poor blue-haired shiny by drunk civilians during a lonely patrol in the depths of the dark, rotting Underworld. The Commander flinched under the thick plastoid shell of crimson armor.

The boy would never smile again.

Long bony fingers like the ones of an ancient mummy tapped the smooth surface of an expensive goblet crafted of fragile Pantoran glass. Fragile like Her skin.

May Manda protect my Lady, Fox prayed, clenching the burly gloved hand so hard and making the whiteness bloom on his knuckles under the rough fabric.

“Commander CC-1010. Are you unwell?”

Trooper’s body stiffened, taking on the position coded into his muscle memory. Arms behind the back. Straight posture. Helmet on.

And by Manda, don’t move.

Don’t show him anything.

He already knows.

“By any means no, Sir Chancellor. I feel alright”

A non-existent thin brow rose up nearly to the nobleman’s disappearing hairline as his face froze in shock. A perfect parody of concern.

“Oh? Just alright, Commander?”

Boots crafted from red Nabooian bull leather made a slow rhythmic sound, like a distant sound of Kyr knocking on the door of a dying man. The costly dark blue robes flowed down the wooly carpet, deep dark navy of the ocean against the crimson of drying blood.

Crooked yellow teeth appeared from between the Chancellor’s thin lips in a snarl, stinking breath filling the filters in Fox’s helmet.

“Aren’t you grateful by what I do for you and your people? Don’t you feel just…. Just a tiny amount of satisfaction, a feeling that you owe me everything? The caf you drink? The armor that protects you disgusting lab-made body from getting mauled and crushed and shot at? Your brothers and sisters?”

Lab-made body.

Lab-made body.

The shell of flesh, bone and thick strong muscle that hosted the organs and bones. The living tissue that tasted punches and cuts, got licked by flames and lightning, swallowed blades and bullets and shrapnel. For Fox it was weird how it could still carry on after two and a half years of being in the Coruscant Guard. The Guard Chief Medical Officer also didn’t bother to hide his shock. The crimson Commander remembered the time Pierce had to physically drag him to his private quarters.

Ah. A common occurrence.

Fox wasn’t a fearful man. A one not incapable of emotions, yes. But not fearful, and most certainly- not a coward. No one who spends their days and nights carrying the whole Triple Hellhole on their back is a coward. But a sound of frail Pantoran glass being smashed against the wall into tiny little shards by enraged Chancellor’s hand would make even them shudder.

“Kneel”

The warrior did so, feeling his heart speed up.

The elderly nobleman in long flowing dark blue robes started circling him, each step crunching the pieces of broken glass under his heels.

“I must admit” The Chancellor hissed through gritted teeth “I’ve been blind. I’ve been blind to all the signs, all those things that have been happening under my nose. Blind and deaf to this… Peculiar relationship of Miss Chuchi and yours."

Fox saw the tips of scarlet leather shoes as Chancellor Sheev Palpatine of Naboo stopped right in front of him, gazing down at his unmoving kneeling body.

“I’ve been in love as a young man, you know? A short-time relationship with my father’s secretary. But, alas, the poor girl lost her charm and beauty and wit as sickness struck her. Oh, how she begged, how those sweet golden eyes pleaded me for comfort, for understanding.”

The older man bowed down, his lips against Fox’s helmet.

“Just like your lover’s, Commander Fox. Do you want to know what happened? How I comforted her?”

The soldier’s whole body tensed like he’d been turned into a stone by whatever magick in the Universe.

“I came to her chambers at dusk, and slit her throat. One single cut was enough to comfort her. Don’t weep, though, trooper. She was getting boring after all”

Fox felt bile fill the back of his throat, stomach acid biting his esophagus.

“Now, clean up everything. Leave no piece not picked. Or else my dear Red Guard will do the same to the dame of your heart just like I did to my Fiona of Naboo”

Droplets of red soaked into the expensive thick rug as the trooper’s thick fingers caught each piece. Each shard.

It’s either my blood, or hers.

*

Dull ache and rising, circling pressure in her lower belly, the soft feeling of something hot and tight hugging him. Hot breath gathering in the crook of her neck like steam against the window glass. Ragged moans of pleasure, limbs tangled in messy silk sheets.

And then bliss. And soon, the sound of a snoring man filling the spacious bedroom they share in her apartment.

Riyo got up, wary of her movements as she stepped into the pile of forgotten pieces of clothing and underwear they scattered all over the room in a rush of longing and chemistry linking their bodies together.

Cold bathroom  tiles stung the soles of her feet as she looked in the mirror.

The bacta Syntflax bandages were said to be the most recent and useful invention of Galactic science, at least that was what the medical droid said. Completely weightless, they healed even the harshest injuries of all kinds, then mending together with skin until they disappeared, invisible to the naked eye.

Thank Moon Goddess for that, the Pantoran senator thought as she laid the dressing on the edge of the porcelain sink.

The wide gash crossing her throat, now only a little bit darker than the light blue skin around it, should disappear in the matter of hours. Syntflax healed everything, even if it was caused by a Nabooian dagger.

[asthewxrldturns-blog]

((hey guys,,,I’m stayin home sick from school today. I’ve been sittin in my room trying to throw up for like an hour, I feel nauseous and have a bit of a fever. dunno if it’s gonna affect my activity at all, but I just wanted to let you guys know))

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 ~ 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐮 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: It's the time of year when everything gets a little distant, the world a little colder. And sitting in your room, you get to witness the first snow with Alcina by your side. Read it on AO3 here! Warnings: None!! Unless you're allergic to fluff. Notes: Hello~ Tiffany is back again with one of her slightly older fics hehe. I think I've posted this one before but I couldn't find it for my masterlist so I'm posting it again. Also yes, I know this fic is about the first snow smack dab in the middle of summer (at least for Canada) but you know what! I don't care, lol. I absolutely adore winter and the atmosphere it brings, so homely and warm and everything good. So here we are, happy reading!

Today was a quiet one. The mid-afternoon sun streamed through the large windows and the sounds of the castle had settled down to a softer noise in the background after the hecticness that comes with any morning. Glancing up, you look towards one of the windows of Castle Dimitrescu and see the vast expanse of Village spread out before you, but something else catches your eye.

Standing up from the large chaise you had been sitting on, with soft steps you pad over to get a closer look. It was a bit chilly, warm breath sure to make wisps in the cold winter air, and in awe you watch as the first snowfall of the season plays out before your very eyes. Cold weather wasn't anything new in the country of Romania, and yet after all this time, this was still a view you'd never get sick of. The small little snowflakes drifting down to Earth from the skies, painting the world in a sparkling white. It reminded you of the winters of your childhood and how much life has changed since then, and yet you wouldn't change the life you had now for anything.

You adjust your robe slightly, pulling it around more tightly around you for warmth, not that you needed to though. It was more of a comfort than anything else. Your body hardly got cold anymore, not when you yourself were made of fire, a result of the attack all those years past... Sometimes you still felt the lingering ache of being reborn, the old scars forever a reminder despite your healing abilities.

Regardless, you were here now and that's all that matters.

"Darling? Are you in here?" A voice called out just past the door of the room. It was just a courtesy though, you knew Alcina could hear the steady thump of your heart for miles with her supernatural hearing and all.

"Yes, dearest," you call out softly, turning around to look towards your lover as she crouched through the small door. With fluid steps, she's in front of you in seconds, a relaxed smile on her face. She too donned a robe, a rich burgundy colour that matched the golden hue of her eyes perfectly. Despite her relaxed demeanour she still exuded that sort of etherealness you can't find anywhere else on earth, still oozed the authority that comes with being a woman in her position.

And she was all yours.

For a moment you glance down at the shining ring on your left hand before looking up at Alcina, a grin meeting your lips as you will your body to float upwards to match her height, an easy feat when you were made of butterflies you supposed.

"Is this where you've been hiding away, dearest?" she says, an amused look on her face, "I've hardly seen you all day." Lifting her hand she runs it over your cheek gently, her lips upturned in a grin.

That was the thing with Alcina. Despite her stature, she was nothing but gentle with you (well, unless the situation called for... otherwise), as if you were made of ice, delicate. Her little snowdrop, she would call you. It was ironic really, since you were essentially the opposite of snow.

You had asked about it one day, maybe a year after you had gotten your powers, why she still called you that.

You and Alcina were sitting in bed, finally getting a moment of repose after a chaotic day of planning for the upcoming winter solstice festival in the village. You sat in Alcina's lap, your head lying on her chest as you both read the book she held in her hands.

Eventually, the weariness of the day caught up to you, and you yawned loudly. Glancing down at you overtop her reading glasses, Alcina wordlessly closes the book and places it down beside her.

"Are you tired, my little snowdrop?" she asks, running a hand through your hair, the action soothing you so much that you yawn once more.

"Why do you still call me that, Alci?" you ask, wiping away the tears that had formed from repeatedly yawning.

"Whatever do you mean?" she asks, looking down at you with a confused look on her face.

"'My little snowdrop', why do you still call me that? I mean, it doesn't really make sense, not when I'm made of these now," you say, lifting a hand. On it, a little red butterfly fluttered its wings, little wisps of fire left behind in its wake.

"Hm," she pauses momentarily, "well, it's because I think of you as my snowdrop, snowdrop," she says with a chuckle, which makes you snort. She runs her hands through your hair for a moment before speaking again.

"I think it makes sense though, regardless of your butterflies. Snowdrops are small, delicate, beautiful. Everything that embodies you, my darling," she says, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. Turning around slightly, you look up at her and are met with golden eyes filled with nothing but affection.

"But even more so," she continues, "the word snowdrop...snow. There's a sort of strength to snow, isn't there? It's a graceful thing, stunning to look at as each snowflake falls to the floor, individualistic in its own right. From afar it's easy to enjoy, but the moment you step outdoors you're met with the freezing cold that nips any skin left uncovered. Stay out too long and you begin to freeze slowly but in a way, it's also fast, so fast that you don't even notice you're freezing until you're already halfway gone. That in itself is strength isn't it?" You pause for a moment, rendered speechless. Alcina really had a way with words, and it caught you off-guard at times. You soak in her words, tilting your head in contemplation before nodding wordlessly.

"And you're just like that, snowdrop. An ethereal being, easily admired from afar, but step closer and you will see that you're not just beautiful, but full of strength as well, not something so easily stepped on." Alcina finishes with a smile. At her words your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but regardless your heart still fills with warmth.

"I... didn't know you thought of me like that Alcina," you say, albeit a bit embarrassedly.

"Well, I do. Every word I spoke I think to be true, you're stronger than you know," Alcina says, the slightest tint of red on her cheeks at her honesty.

"Well, then I like the name then, darling," you say with a smile.

"I'm glad you do, my little snowdrop," Alcina says, her lips upturning into a smile that matches your own.

Snapping back to the present, you smile a bit at the memory before responding to Alcina.

"It felt like a bit of an antisocial sort of day, darling. I'm sorry," you say, glancing off to the side. Alcina takes one of your hands into her own with a sigh, pressing a kiss onto your palm.

"There's no need to be sorry, my love, how many times must I tell you that. I understand things get overwhelming at times, it's quite alright", she says, which makes you look back up at her fondly.

"Thank you for always being so understanding Alcina, I don't know what I'd do without you," you say before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. The feeling never changed, her full soft lips on yours as your heart filled a bit more with love for this woman. You feel her smile into the kiss before pulling away slightly.

"It's the least I could do, darling," she says before pecking your lips once more. Then her gaze is pulled from your own to the one behind you and she lets out a soft gasp.

"My, it's snowing already?" she asked, more to herself if anything. Her eyes are filled with an almost childlike glimmer, the view before you so pure it made your heart soar with affection. Alcina had always told you winter was her favourite season. It really suited her.

"It is, darling. I noticed it just before you came in," you say.

"Perhaps we should go on a stroll then, my little snowdrop. The first snow is always the most beautiful."

"I'd fit right in then, wouldn't I?" you say with a giggle, making Alcina chuckle before grabbing your waist and pulling you close.

"I would say yes, but you stand out amongst the crowd, my love. My pretty little snowdrop," Alcina says, kissing you once more.

A/N: This fic always gets me so softtttttt. I love Alcina, so much.

[zorosq]

love me ; vinsmoke sanji

↻ angst, hurt/no comfort, cheating

↻ pairing ↬ sanji x fem!reader! x zoro

a/n dk why today has lots of zoro cheating on reader fic. now im gonna hurt sanji. i am not sorry. been wanting to do it for a while now. LIKE THERES A LOT OF FIC WHERE SANJI HURTS THE READER NOW IM GONNA HAVE A PAYBACK.

your fingers traced on zoro's chest, where his scar was imprinted. "how long are we going to keep doing this?" he asked.

you could tell that he was getting impatient and also slightly hurt by how you always gets to kiss sanji in the open. no, you felt disgusted kissing him.

your heart aches everytime you did that. you don't love him. you never did. and you questioned yourself everyday on why you ever dated him?

was it because of the flattery? the flirtings? it doesn't matter. because it was only for a moment. "i'll break up with him... soon," you said.

sanji could hear it all. he was going to go bring food for zoro. it is three in the morning after all. he wanted to help zoro stay awake.

but now it seems that he doesn't have to.

.

the morning sun came up, peeking through the window and passed the curtains. the cook groaned in displeased.

it was late. he should be waking up way before the others. right, he was crying last night. maybe he had heard it wrong? maybe he was only hallucinating since it was already late?

he didn't know. but right now, he have more concerning matter to think about.

when he arrived in the kitchen, you, zoro and nami was already there. "good morning, sanji," just sanji. no babe. no morning kisses.

what changed? when did it happened? where did he do wrong? "morning, y/n, nami-san," he greeted back with a charming smile.

"you slept in today, sanji. are you feeling sick?" nami asked. you didn't even spare a glance at him. instead, you were too caught up in the conversation you were having with zoro.

"not at all, nami-san. i just felt more tired yesterday," he excused. "oh, well. i hope you've gathered enough energy for today," she chuckled, implying their energetic captain.

sanji followed along before making his way to make breakfast for the rest of the crew. his gaze fell on you, heart aching in the process.

was last night real after all?

.

"sanji... we need to talk," you managed to say. he could already tell it was bad news. you were finally going to break up with him.

"sure, y/n-chan. just let me clean the kitchen up and we'll talk,"

you waited at the dining table as he wipes clean everything. it didn't took him that long before he finished everything and took a sit in front of you with a freshly brewed tea.

"s-sanji... we should break up,"

ah... there it is. his heart shattered into million pieces. he knew, yet he stayed and listened to you. "i'm sorry. you're a good guy... and i don't want to keep lying to myself that i love you,"

"how long...?" he managed to ask with a broken voice. his head was facing at the table. not once did he look up after you revealed your intention. "how long...?" you asked him back, staring at him in confusion.

"how long have you love him?"

oh. so your secrets were out. "...a year," you said guiltily. a year... you had been in love with zoro for a year.

the two of you had been dating for two years. and those two years was just a lie? "did you ever love me...?"

"...no. i just realized that..."

you never loved him... why can't you love him? at least for a year? "i'm sorry, sanji... there's a lot of girls out there that is best suited for you..."

'best suited for him'? no... he wanted you. he loved you. no — he still loves you. so why... wasn't his love enough?

"goodbye, sanji... i hope we can still be friends..." with that, you walked out of the kitchen and went straight to where zoro is.

just like that. just in two minutes, his whole world crumbled. left alone, with no one to comfort him.

a/n i purposely made this long. but i wanted to make this longer for obvious reasons. this is what you get for hurting my boy zoro and hurting readers. technically im hurting you guys too. i promise this is a one time thing <3

[slutfor-fictionalmen]

Hi! I'm a new follower , sent by @birds-have-teeth :)

I had sent in a request for izuku thinking it was from them but it was not (sorry again)

Well here it is :)

#4 and #6 being angsty + fluff :). Maybe Tamaki being the one Izuku is jealous of, and maybe, if it's ok with you a chubby reader (chubby baby rights 😭)

Thank you for your time :)

- ashi's 👻 anon

Sorry it’s so bad! I hope you like it! 4. “i think we’re meant to be.”

6. “my heart fucking breaks whenever i see you with him!”

He was angry. Of course he was, you were his and only his…. Right? This was the fifth day in a row that you’ve ditched izuku for some “girl time” with Tamaki. Maybe if they weren’t so similar it wouldn’t have bothered him, he would have been fine with it if it were an actual GIRL. But no, it was him, you were giving your brightest smile to HIM, laughing at HIS jokes. Izuku didn’t like it, he didn’t like how comfortable tamaki  was touching you, he didn’t like his inner dialogue of whether or not you would be better off with tamaki.

Izuku loved you, you’ve been friends for years, but you’ve never really ditched him like you have this year. It hurt him, he always thought you were his, that you were inseparable, but you needed time away eventually, you couldn’t be with him all the time….. could you? He wanted to tell you how he felt, he was going to before Tamaki came into your lives, so he just shut up.

But he didn’t want to be rude, he hated the thought of upsetting you and ruining his chances to ask you out, even if you said no….. he wanted a shot with you. He sat by and watched as you leaned into him when laughing, how Tamaki wiped the tear of laughter forming at your eye and gazed at you. It was obvious this boy loved you, he called you his bunny, stood up for you even when he would get hurt, and he was always there. Izuku hated how threatened he felt around him, how if by any chance you get together and he messes up, tamaki will sweep you off of your feet and he’ll lose you.

He watches as you stand up, flipping off Katsuki when he said something about how good you look today, and throw your trash away. He didn’t expect you to look right at him and smile. He also didn’t expect to give a half assed smile, full of hesitation and doubt. You gave him a small frown, approaching him carefully.

“Izuku? Are you ok? You look like something’s wrong-“ “can we talk somewhere private….. please?”  You pull back in surprise, a bit thrown off by his request, but agreeing and following the young hero. You turn around with your eyes closed, ready to initiate conversation in hopes that the shy man will open up.

Before you speak, you feel him push you against a wall, planting his hand above your shoulders. Your eyes shoot open, staring at the troubled man as he struggles to find words to verbalize what he needs to say. You cup his face, rubbing your thumb along his freckles and smiling slightly.

“Whatever it is, you can say it izu, you know you can always ope-“ “I hate it, I fucking hate it, I hate how he looks at you, how he acts around you, how he…. Touches you, I hate how you respond, how you act like it’s ok, how you just sit there and let him touch what’s Mine,” a blush appears on his face as he inhales shakily, “ for some sick reason I can’t stand to see you with anyone else, maybe it’s cause I think we’re meant to be  or maybe it’s because I hate him and I want you for myself because of how my heart aches… no, my heart fucking breaks when I see you with him. Whatever it is….. I don’t like it, and I’m sorry you have to find out this way…”

You laugh, surprising izuku and pulling him from his ranting. Your snorts and wheezes fill his ears, confusing him and making him regret his confession. You see him pulling back and looking away, causing you to stop and pull his face in your hands.

“You’re talking about tamaki right?” You look at him with a wide smile, confusing izuku, but still allowing him to smile, “ izu…… tamaki the man who lets me paint his nails and Is constantly seen with a new man Tamaki? Tamaki that has a rainbow sticker on his shoes to ‘stomp on the haters?’ Him?” Izuku looks lost, staring blankly before his mind collects the given information. He’s gay. Izuku slaps his forehead disappointed with himself for not seeing it sooner.

Your laughs fill his ears, making him realize just how stupid he was, how he fucked up the whole situation and was jealous of a man with no interest in her…. Or any girl whatsoever. A furious blush covers his face as he shrinks into himself from embarrassment. You take his hands in your own making him look you in the eye as your laughter dies down.

“You really mean it? That you think we’re meant to be?” Izuku nods “ Well, I just so happen to be talking to Tama about how I feel the same, that I like you a lot….. we’ve known each other for a while…. I never thought you felt the same…” Izuku caresses her face, looking at her with wide, bright eyes, and a smile.

“Even when I told you I was gonna marry you that one time?” You smiled and shook your head ,” or when I told you I loved you when you got into that agency?” You feel flushed, how did you not see it before? “I always loved you, we just never saw it possible with each other.” You lean up, pecking his lips and hugging him.

“I’m glad I got you jealous, our dumb asses would have never known without that.” You share a mutual look, knowing how oblivious you both are. Izuku’s cheeks are painted red as you enter back into the food court holding his scarred hand. You press a soft kiss onto the back of his hands before you part, returning back to your friends.

You sighed as all of your friends gave you knowing looks, and whistling at you.

Sure it was shitty timing, but looking over at Izuku, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[jmtorres]

had a weird conversation today where I said Id gotten vaccinated for flu & covid (bivalent booster) and it knocked me flat and i slept for three days, and the guy i was chatting with thought i'd contracted the actual illnesses not been vaccinated

i think we have a reluctance to talk about normal vaccine effects--I don't even want to side effects, because you're deliberately setting off your immune system, this is what is supposed to happen. But because there's so much anti-vax bullshit we try to pretend vaccination is 100% positive and has no downsides and... I think that's actually more harmful in the long run, like people who may not have an opinion get a vaccine and the experience kinda sucks for a few days and they go "oh the anti-vaxxers were right!" well no they weren't, the vaccine is NOT worse than the disease, but it's not fun, that's true.

So it's always remotely possible you will have an allergic reaction to a vaccine, and this is why pharmacies ask you to hang around for 15 minutes after the jab to make sure you don't come down with hives or start having trouble breathing. This is really rare and if you've had all your childhood shots without a problem it's unlikely to affect you. But it's also why they ask you if you're allergic to any of the components of vaccines, like egg proteins, which, if you've got that allergy I'm sorry and you probably already know better than I do what vaccines you can have and what alternates are available to you. Anyway: an allergic reaction to a vaccine if you've never had one before is an abnormal problem and not one most people will ever deal with. But if you are worried, hang around the pharmacy for 15 minutes, they're equipped to help you if you do have an allergic reaction, and if you're going to have one it should happen in that time frame and you can stop worrying about it after.

But then: normal vaccine reactions. Many people get sore in the arm that was injected. This usually lasts a couple of days. I got two vaccines at once and opted to have them in the same arm so I only had one arm affected. It's really common to be fatigued the day or two after a vaccine, because your immune system is in overdrive. I ran a low-grade fever and flopped around adjusting my covers on and then off when it broke. Again, this is a normal immune response.

Some people are like that sounds like being sick, why bother getting vaccinated, why not just risk getting sick? Here's symptoms of the illnesses I got vaccinated for I got to skip the experience of:

runny nose, congestion, sore throat

headaches

full body aches

vomiting

diarrhea

fevers high enough to risk brain damage

difficulty breathing

hospitalization because you can't breathe

death

you think it won't happen to you but people do die of both covid and flu

not to mention long-term bullshit, I had a relatively mild case of covid a couple months ago and I'm still not up to my usual level of activity, plus I have scar tissue behaving super weirdly? and there are so many worse longterm covid effects ppl have reported. sense of taste or smell being permanently fucked up. lungs wonky for months. new blood pressure problems. worse fatigue.

so I got to avoid all that, and I got to choose when I wanted to deal with a couple of days of being too tired to do anything, so I could do it in a holiday weekend and not miss much.

Also, at no point was I contagious! I never risked giving even my minor miseries to other people!

And that's why I would rather get a vaccine and have a couple of sucky days while my immune system learns from it than get the actual disease.

Vaccines aren't fun. But in most cases they're better for you and for society than the disease they're preventing, and for those few people who have allergies or are immunocompromised in ways that prevent them from getting vaccinated, they're relying on as many of us who can get vaccinated to do so, to lower their risk of exposure. That's what herd immunity is and does--when the majority of a population is vaccinated, a disease can't spread through the population, so rare ppl who can't get vaccinated are protected.

Please get your vaccines! As of the beginning of September, 2022, in the US, this season's flu vaccine is out at pretty much all pharmacies, as well as the bivalent covid booster, which is supposed to protect against two common strains of omicron. Pharmacies can also handle all your standard childhood vaccinations and stuff like tetanus (you want a booster every ten years!) and HPV and others. Vaccines are preventative medicine so they're free under pretty much every insurance and government medical care.

[ID: "it's free real estate" meme edited to say "it's free healthcare!" end ID]